Dramatic Orchestrations
by Ergott
Summary: She had thought she was done with this, she had moved on. But Sarah Williams is about to learn that her assumptions are rarely correct, and Goblin Kings cannot be defeated by mere words alone. JS
1. Dreaming Dreamers

**Dramatic Orchestrations**

Chapter One: Dreaming Dreamers.

_Somewhere the world was flat and filled with grassy fields that seemed to stretch on forever, glistening with dew that had yet to burn up in the afternoon sun. Somewhere the sky was blue and the air was hot and thick. Somewhere there was an ocean, warm and endless like a good bath. Somewhere there were humans._

_But not here._

_Here there were mountains, jagged and gently sloped alike, rising up as if to touch the heavens. Here the sky was an impossible mix of gold, orange, and silver, and the air was thin and cold like all proper mountain air should be. Here there was snow, a frozen ocean glittering like fallen stardust. Here there were Fae. _

_His family had lived and ruled here for millennia, and would continue to do so, but…_

_But something was changing. _

_Just a gentle shift in the wind, just a brief twist in his heart, was all that he could feel right now. More would come, he was certain of it. More would come, and for better or worse, his kingdom would change. Something large was just over the horizon, something that would define an entire age for his people; he could only hope that it would all be for the best. _

* * *

Music, soft and lulling, filled with smooth violins and a tinkling piano. It was such a pretty waltz, the kind of thing that no one listened to anymore. That was the only thing she was aware of for a while. Then, slowly, her other senses kicked in. It was dark and cold and she was in a… ballroom?

Suddenly, one by one, as if sensing her new awareness, sconces lit along the walls, then some candles on tables scattered here and there, next three fireplaces nearly twice her height roared to life, and finally two massive crystal chandeliers began to burn brightly. All of the light was fire based, so the once dark room now seemed alive with flickering shadows, everything dancing in time to the waltz that came from nowhere.

Quietly she walked around the enormous room examining everything. The floor was made of beautiful rich wood; the walls were covered in soft purple, red, and gold tapestries; and the ceiling seemed to rise up forever, studded by the two chandeliers on either end of the room.

The waltz slowed and reached its end, and for one horrible moment everything was still and silent. The shadows seemed to lengthen and freeze, and despite the heat pouring out of the blazing fires, the room suddenly seemed deathly cold. Fearing the stillness beyond all reason, she froze as well, waiting, and watching her breath come out in crystallized puffs. Then the invisible players picked up again, this time with a sprightly court tune that probably hadn't been played in centuries. Mollified, the shadows began to move once more, and if she looked hard enough she swore she could see them form the silhouettes of graceful dancers. And yet she was still technically alone, for not a physical soul was to be seen. Vaguely bothered by the entire scene, she began to edge her way around the great hall, looking for an exit.

"Leaving us so soon?" The voice was no more than a whisper, but echoed throughout the entire room.

"I don't think she's ready to join our dances yet," another voice answered.

The shadows seemed to freeze, and if they had possessed eyes she had no doubt that they would all be looking right at her. Discreetly she tried to move a little closer to the door that she had found. Just as she seemed to reach her escape the giant double doors slammed shut with a resounding bang.

"Now, now, we can't have you leaving before the real fun gets started!" the first voice chuckled.

"Yes, the party's barely begun," a few new voices shouted out from the far side of the room.

"It wouldn't do to have one of our guests of honor leave before the other one has even arrived!"

Panicked, she whirled around, quickly grabbing one of the door handles and began to yank viciously. It wouldn't even budge, but the shadows were starting to close in on her. "Leave me _alone_!" she cried, her voice sounding distorted, as if coming from under water.

"I told you she wasn't ready yet," the second voice sighed.

The first voice sighed as well, in annoyance. "She doesn't have much time to prepare herself. We're doing her a service, helping her get ready for what is to come. There isn't much time before he'll decide to make his first move."

Silently the doors swung open, and without even sparing a glance behind her she ran through them, out into the corridor and…

* * *

Sarah Williams bolted out of bed like she had been shot and stared around herself blearily, wondering what the hell she was doing outside the warmth of her blankets.

* * *

A/N: I've been an avid fan of all Henson productions for as long as I can remember, but I hadn't seen Labyrinth until just recently. Needless to say this is my first Labyrinth fic, so I apologize if the characters seem somewhat off. I have just about all of this story planned out, so I think the biggest problem to tackle will be motivation (hint, hint).

And to those of you reading 'Renfield Wasn't Crazy' I apologize for my delay in updating. At first I was busy with the new semester starting, then I was being lazy, and now my attention has shifted. That's not to say I have no intentions of finishing it, I'm merely warning you that there are likely to be more delays ahead until my attention shifts back.

Anyway, please tell me what you think: loved it, hated it, thought it was ok, and why! The only way an author can improve is if you tell them what they're doing right, and what they're doing wrong. So be a dear and help a struggling artist out.

Disclaimer: I own very little, just a few ideas. But, oh, what those ideas can become!


	2. Changes?

Chapter Two: Changes? 

Once upon a time there was a young girl who learned how to grow up under the most amazing of circumstances. Four and a half years later, she felt as though she hadn't made any progress after all.

Sarah sighed and began to gather up the sheets that had been tossed aside when she had jumped out of bed. She couldn't quite remember what it was that had startled her, but she was sure it had been something unusual. Not that it wasn't entirely unexpected; unusual things seemed to happen around her on a regular basis. Once the bed was straightened she looked out the window and decided it wouldn't be worth it to go back to sleep since the sun was already coming up.

"What a terrible way to start the morning," Sarah mumbled while making her way to the bathroom for a nice hot shower.

The pilot light was being slow again, so she took a good long look at herself in the mirror while waiting for the water to warm up. Looking into mirrors was always a bizarre experience for her. It was as though everything about her had changed, and yet managed to stay the same. At fifteen she had had smooth brown hair, serious hazel eyes, and a lanky figure; at nineteen her hair was silky black, her eyes a laughing emerald, and her figure had filled out quite well, bearing curves where there had once been nothing. But if she looked hard enough she could still see the wistful air she carried about herself, still see the longing in her eyes for something more than she was getting, still feel the utter yearning for danger, adventure, and romance. There just seemed to be some things the soul could not shed itself of.

Sarah stepped into the shower, hissing slightly as the now scalding water hit her skin. She let her thoughts wander as she washed, and they settled, inevitably, on the Labyrinth. Four and a half years and she still couldn't figure it out. In her mind she knew it wasn't possible. People did not pop into different dimensions and run giant mazes to save their little brothers; it simply wasn't done. But in her heart she knew that even if the Labyrinth hadn't been real, its lessons had.

And that was where it all broke down, because sometimes it felt as though nothing had changed.

Lesson one: be careful what you wish for and mean what you say; which she thought was asking an awful lot of any teenager, seeing as they were all ruled by hormones and emotions, and some things just slipped. It wasn't an excuse, it was a fact.

Lesson two: take nothing for granted, which was certainly harder than it sounded because she found herself taking things for granted all the time.

Lesson three: make sacrifices and embrace maturity, but there were times when she wanted nothing more than to kick and scream until things went her way.

Of course there were times when it seemed as though _everything_ had changed, and she had well and truly learned her lessons but, as they say, nothing lasts forever and she would always find herself slipping back into some old habit.

'It's just all part of growing up, I suppose,' she thought dejectedly, while lathering her hair. 'I just want to be done with all this back and forth business, between being a child and being an adult!' But somewhere deep in her mind, she knew the thought of fully growing up scared her, that somewhere along the line something that essentially made her who she was would be lost for good. 'There's no point in clinging on to this, I'm not a child anymore!' But the feeling was still there, niggling at her soul and warning her that some things were meant to be kept forever.

Sighing at the turn her thoughts had taken, Sarah turned off the spray, and rung the extra water out of her hair. 'I always thought there would be so much more to the world than just confusion,' was her last thought before finally getting ready for the day.

_

* * *

The humans had always been skittish around him and his kind, but something was wrong. Mortals that had lived in villages on the outskirts of his kingdom had vanished. Trading posts that did regular business with the races of man were suddenly reporting a complete lack of activity._

_Something was terribly wrong, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse._

* * *

'The park sure is empty for a Saturday,' Sarah thought while keeping an eye on Merlin, a great big Old English Sheepdog now pushing nine years, who trotted ahead of her at a much more sedate pace than he had once used. "I suppose no one wants to be out in the cold, huh Merlin?" She asked the dog, while subconsciously pulling her long coat tighter against herself. He spared her a brief look, raising his doggy brows, before diving into the nearest snow bank and hopelessly matting his fur with little snowballs. "Some things never change, do they boy? Snow still makes you act like a little puppy!" Sarah laughed while he rolled on his back, paws waving merrily in the air.

"Your dog is weird." Sarah nearly shrieked, until she turned around to find Toby standing behind her and giving Merlin 'The Look'.

"I thought you were staying home," she commented once her heart had slowed down.

He shrugged as gracefully as any five year old in a giant winter coat and several layers of shirts could manage, "Changed my mind."

"He's your dog too, you know," she said in response to his first statement.

"Nah, he's only mine when he does something cool. He's all yours when he's stupid." Sarah never would have used flippant when describing a kindergartener, but sometimes there was no better way to describe her half-brother. There was just something about the way he carried himself, the way he talked and acted, that made Toby different from every other child she had ever met. He was special, she just couldn't entirely figure out how or even why. Perhaps he was a child prodigy, like Mozart.

Together they stared at the dog for a moment longer before silently agreeing to let him have his fun while they had their own.

"Snowman?" Toby suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Sarah agreed.

It took them a while, since the snow wasn't exactly perfect for packing, being a bit on the powdery side, and Toby seemed hell-bent on throwing snowballs whenever Sarah turned her back to him, but eventually they completed it.

"It doesn't look like a snowman," Toby said, blue eyes grinning while he brushed snow out of his dirty blond hair.

"No, it doesn't," Sarah agreed. "I guess it's a snow… blob," she said laughing. Whatever it was that they had created was short and squat, bearing a mild resemblance to a smiling piece of lumpy clay.

"Like a gremlin or something," he suggested.

"Or a goblin," she giggled, easing in two sticks for arms while Toby tried to use some chalk to color in the grinning mouth.

"Yeah, a snow-goblin. I like that," he mumbled while finally managing to smear some color onto the white crystals.

They stepped back for a moment to view their lopsided masterpiece, and both burst out laughing at the sheer crookedness of it.

_

* * *

A child was missing, a human child, which explained the sudden absence of mortals near his region. His kingdom was suspected, and that hurt. He had never done anything to actually harm the humans, but they always seemed to forget that when they needed someone to blame. He had no idea where the child was, but he sincerely doubted it was in his land. Surely he would have noticed a mortal among them! But it wasn't going to be so easy to convince the humans of that. There was a battle in front of him, and as confrontational as he was, he didn't relish the strain this was going to put on his people, not to mention the relationship between the two species._

_This was not the change he had envisioned._

* * *

The rest of the day came and went in a haze of snowball fights and hot chocolate. The night had been fast in coming, and Sarah had felt sad to stop the time she was having with her brother because of it. But the night hadn't been all bad, it had started flurrying just after dinner, and so she sat in her darkened room to watch it.

It was snowing in earnest now. The large flakes danced down from the sky like graceful confetti, and glinted silver in the porch lights below her. A gentle wind picked up and rolled the crystals in mid-air, bringing them to rest on the roof by her window. Sarah loved snow, there was no doubt about it. There was just something that made her want to go outside to play around and admire all of it. 'Besides,' she thought, 'it's almost Christmas, and that makes this snow special.' She continued to watch the outside for a while longer, before deciding to go to sleep.

Sarah hesitated slightly before climbing into bed. She couldn't remember what it was that had bothered her that morning, but she had a feeling it hadn't been good. 'I'm being silly!' She thought with a laugh. 'I _think_ I had a nightmare, and so I'm afraid to go to sleep? Please, I'm too old for that.' So she settled down, burrowed under the covers, and never once took notice of the snowy white owl perched outside her window.

* * *

A/N: Okay, sorry that not much happened here. It will get more exciting, I promise. Anyway, tell me what you think. Please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters.


	3. Things Lost

Chapter Three: Things Lost. 

_Why were humans so fickle? They appreciated the Fae's beauty, but distrusted them because of it. _

_He had searched his kingdom from top to bottom, and the child was well and truly nowhere within it. But would the mortals believe that? Of course not! They insisted that he had spirited the young boy away and was keeping him prisoner in his castle somewhere. The impudence! They wanted to come search his domain for themselves, and while that would certainly solve the problem, he was uneasy with the very idea. It felt too much like an invasion for him to grant such a request. The humans would flood in and tear his lands apart looking for a boy that was probably lost in one of their own cities. But to refuse them would be an admission of guilt in their eyes. _

_He sighed, leaning heavily against a wall. Something had to be done. There had to be some way that he could let the mortals into his realm without allowing them the opportunity to destroy it. Quietly he moved to a window, looking out at the vast lands that comprised his kingdom. He had an idea; it was twisted, fragmented, magnificently terrifying, beautifully poisoned, and, most importantly, completely unexpected. It would change the land, but not so much that his people wouldn't still be able to call it home. _

_With hope, and not just a bit of malicious glee, he pushed away from the window and made his way down the corridor, intent on setting this newest plan into motion._

* * *

She remembered it now, that ballroom filled with dancers who weren't actually there. Of course it didn't help in the least, since Sarah suddenly found herself in a twisting hallway with many of the same shadows passing her by. What was worse, she had absolutely no idea how to respond when one or two tried to strike up a conversation with her! How did one go about talking to a person that wasn't entirely present? She had tried asking as much to a group of the phantom beings, but they had simply laughed and fluttered away. 

Disheartened, and not knowing what to expect from this newest fantasy of hers, Sarah made her way down the corridor. The walls were made of a simple sand colored stone, and if she looked long enough she could see glittering chips of mica or maybe even marble imbedded within the giant blocks. But something was odd about this hallway. It seemed to stretch before her into eternity. No twists, no turns, no other paths to go down, just the one way spreading out further than her eyes could see. If she didn't know any better she would have said she was back in the Labyrinth.

Sarah paused. Did she know any better?

True, where ever this was, it was indoors, but that certainly didn't mean it couldn't be a part the monstrous world from her dreams. She was dreaming right now, so it stood to reason that she very well _could_ be back in that endless maze. Only one thing was missing: tangible company.

"Why the long face, sweetling?" A wispy shadow to her right asked.

Sarah studied the shadow for a moment. It vaguely formed the outline of a woman in a long dress, and though the patch of darkness never left the wall it seemed detached from any surface, as though it weren't reliant upon light and an object on which to cast a shadow. An entity unto itself. "Where am I, and why?" she asked wearily.

The lady-shadow paused, cocking her head to the side. "You're in a dreamscape, my dear. As to why, well, I thought we went over this last night? And if nothing else, you must want to be here, for none of _us_ could ever be able to pull you through against your will."

"But you did do this, right?" Sarah asked, waving her hands to encompass whatever 'this' was.

"We did bring you through, yes. Not completely, I'm afraid, otherwise you would be able to see us much better than I'm sure you are right now. You must understand that we are merely trying to help while there is still time," she said gently, and then added with a bit of a chuckle, "He's getting restless."

"Who's getting restless?" Sarah asked, bewildered. She had a sinking feeling that she was supposed to know the answer to this.

The phantom shook her head. "Oh my sweet dear, how _much_ have you forgotten?" she asked sadly.

For a few minutes Sarah struggled with her words. Forgotten about what? If she really was where she thought, then the answer was that she had forgotten a great deal about the Labyrinth. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes; like any good dream, the details had faded until she was left with nothing more that a vague memory. In truth she remembered little else but the lessons she was supposed to have learned.

Taking her companion's silence to mean the worst, the shadow sighed. "We've got more work ahead of us than I think anyone anticipated. Dream, sweetling, dream and remember what should never be forgotten."

The world around Sarah wavered, and began to melt like ice on a sun baked sidewalk.

_

* * *

It was slow progress, but he had 13 weeks before the mortals would arrive to the outskirts of his kingdom. And _oh_, wouldn't they be surprised when they got there, he thought with a smirk. _

* * *

Sarah Williams was not amused. 

Once again she had woken up to find herself jerking out of bed. The details were starting to become sketchy, but she remembered this new dream a bit, as well as most of the dream she had forgotten from the night before. 'Talking shadows, huh? How warped can my imagination get?' she thought while settling back into bed.

Something clattered to the floor.

Groaning at her own bad luck, and wondering what the hell had been in bed with her, Sarah leaned over her mattress to take a look.

Red leather with gilded edging started back at her.

Sarah grabbed the book and gazed at it in confusion. She may not have had the best memory for someone her age, but she could clearly remember having given The Labyrinth to Toby since he had liked it so much. "Kid must have left it in here by accident," she mumbled while thumbing through the pages absently.

A note fell out onto her lap.

_

* * *

Walls rose up out of the earth, high and terrifying. Forests and meadows rearranged themselves into endlessly twisting paths, interlocking often enough to ensnare the unwary. Mountains moved to surround and run through his domain, like protective shields. Space rippled, bending and stretching to accommodate the numerous dimensions of this new kingdom. His people gladly moved into the areas that were deemed most habitable, and new creatures were born to take up residence in the areas that were less populated. Time itself bowed to his every whim. _

_But it wasn't _enough_, something was still missing. _

* * *

'_Remember_' was written in a curling, feminine script across the tiny piece of paper. 

No, Sarah Williams was most certainly _not_ amused.

* * *

A/N: My apologies for the general shortness of the chapter, this just seemed like a very good place to leave off. And it was a little more exciting then the last one, right? I mean _something_ did happen. I can tell that we're going to be in for the long haul with this story. I have it divided up into 5 or 6 distinct parts; we're now on chapter 3 and I've barely even started writing the first part. 

Anyway, tell me what you think: comments, suggestions, critiques, anything. Please review! And don't hesitate to email me if you have any questions, my email can be found in my profile.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings that are recognizable as coming from Labyrinth. Everything else either belongs to me, or folklore.


	4. A Silent Web

Chapter Four: A Silent Web. 

They say that there is a world between dreams and reality; a world made of hopes and promises that never come to pass. It was the sort of place where little children would never have to grow up, where fantasies could run amok, where there were no limitations or boundaries because it was made out of imagination.

But it had a dark side as well.

It could also be a world of bad dreams; nightmares where your fondest wish could be twisted and bent until it was nothing but a mockery of hope, where you simply couldn't stop your darkest fears from becoming real because they were just as much a part of you as your good dreams were.

Sarah was staring at a note from that halfway-world.

There was something strange about being presented with proof, however small, that your dreams weren't _just_ images from a sleeping mind. A door of possibilities had just been opened before her very eyes, and Sarah wasn't sure what she thought about that. On the one hand it meant that there really was more to the world then so many people thought. This could be an opportunity to make something for herself that others wouldn't even be able to imagine. On the other hand, it meant that the Labyrinth had probably been real as well, and while that wasn't entirely bad, it was problematic. She remembered wishing Toby away, a gargantuan maze, a few funny looking goblins, and that she was supposed to have matured. Beyond that she had a few flashes of memory, but they were vague feelings, only half formed.

Someone was trying to remind her of a world that she had apparently taken for granted. But why, what was to be gained by her recovering such things?

'Of course, this note could always just be a coincidence,' she thought while staring down at the curling script. But Sarah had stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago. That wasn't to say she thought _everything_ happened on purpose (like spilling soda on the rug, she was pretty certain that wasn't crucial to the grand design of the universe) but most things seemed to happen for a reason.

"I wish I _could_ remember," she whispered to the darkened room, "then maybe I would know what's going on."

_

* * *

He needed a weapon, something that he could use to charm the humans and then turn against them. There had to be some way to lull them into a false sense of security long enough to ensure his victory._

_There was an aspect, an entire dimension, of this new land that wasn't being fully realized. He would find it, harness it, and wield it like an angry god. Those mortals would regret having ever challenged him._

* * *

Sarah didn't remember closing her eyes, couldn't remember having lain back down on the bed, but she must have because she was fairly certain that foggy, endless voids only appeared in dreams. 'Of course, I have been known to be wrong,' she thought with a snort.

There was something ahead of her (or at least she assumed it was ahead of her; there wasn't a floor or ceiling anywhere, so she really didn't have any point of reference). It seemed to suffer from the strange affliction of all her current dreams, namely that it was made entirely of shadows.

"Oh, it's you," an echoing voice intoned.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Shows how much you know, don't it." The figure began to take shape.

"I don't understand. What's going on here?" she demanded, but the voice carried on as though it hadn't heard her at all.

"Even if you make it to the center, you'll never get out again." Now there was wispy white hair under a leather cap.

"I just do. Nice young girl, terrible black oubliette." Concerned blue eyes appeared under giant bushy brows.

"Of course you are, but it only gets harder from here on in." Hands, large and gnarled, connected to oddly slim wrists.

"Who are you?" she asked confusedly.

"Let me put it this way: what choice have you got?" Legs, short and stubby, connected to an equally compressed torso.

"That's not fair; them's mine!" Rough trousers and a leather vest, over a thick off-white shirt, blinked into existence.

"Why'd you have to go and do a thing like that?!" A face, large and wrinkled, formed over a short neck and slim shoulders.

"I know you, don't I?" Sarah whispered, mesmerized, and caught in a sudden whirlwind of remembrance. A short old dwarf, grumpy but sweet at heart, cowardly but brave when it mattered most. A friend.

"It's _Hoggle_!" his voice growled out, seemingly annoyed.

* * *

Her consciousness shifted, and she tried desperately to wake up, but the harder she struggled, the faster and farther she seemed to fall back into sleep._

* * *

He could have laughed at how simple the answer had been._

_Dreams. Humans had thousands of dreams. They thrived and survived on them. Being Fae he had the ability to see past a mortal's body; he could look into their very soul and find out what they wanted most. Being a King he had the power to bring those wishes to life. 'And I will, too,' he thought with a smirk. 'Won't they be sorry,' he laughed to himself. Even the most vigilant man could not deny his deepest desires, and this King would be more than happy to grant them. But the mortals would soon find out that there would be a price to pay, and that he was neither a patient man when collecting debts nor a kind one. _

_He grinned wickedly, thinking of all the awful things he could do to the lost souls that would soon haunt his domain. _

_A web quietly began to weave itself throughout the new land. It zigzagged through narrow corridors, spiraled through gloomy caves, snaked through silent forests, and formed its center to always surround the King. Power surged down its endless stands, and the web became an invisible menace, everywhere and yet nowhere at all. Energy leaked out of impatient tendrils, eagerly awaiting the first victims it would be able to wrap around and stifle in a cocoon of poisoned fantasies. _

_He let out a cold chuckle, slowly testing his new awareness. He would be ready. Whatever the humans tried, he would be ready to do whatever necessary to prevent them from ever making it to his home. _

_He let out another chuckle, this one sounding ominous. There would simply be no escaping him, he thought with smug grin._

* * *

A/N: I would like to make a comment on the speed with which I have been updating lately. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I only have two morning classes, so I'll try my hardest to write and update on those days, but I cannot promise that I will always be able to do this three times a week.

Also, I would like to ask that you please leave a review. This story is thus far completely un-beta'd; I know there must be some things that I'm doing wrong, and I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to give me feedback. So please, in the interest of progress, leave me a little contribution. Thank you very much for your help!

Disclaimer: All characters and settings from Labyrinth do not belong to me. Anything unrecognizable as having come from the aforementioned title either belongs to me or to folklore. Any similarities between this and other stories are purely coincidental.


	5. Nightmares

Chapter Five: Nightmares.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't sure where this new dream had taken her, but it was making her uneasy. Up ahead was a simple dirt path stretching forward before snaking off into a dark forest. Something was in that forest, waiting for her. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she swore she could feel large predatory eyes watching her every move.

"Well now, let's be logical about this. I don't know if there _is_ something in there or not, but still, I'm alone and unarmed, so it wouldn't be very smart of me to follow this path," she decided with a nod.

A cry sounded from behind her, a bellowing, howling cry that shook her ribcage and bounced off the trees, scaring birds into flight. Every instinct she possessed told her to run, but Sarah stood rooted to the spot. The only place to go would be into the woods, and as horrible as the sound was, the thought that something worse could be lurking between those dark trees kept her in place. Quickly she turned around, so as not to present her back as an easy target.

Behind her was a small field, no bigger than a half acre, surrounded by a large brick wall with a door that didn't seem to have a handle. The cry sounded again, closer this time, and she swore she felt the earth beneath her ripple. A dull thudding rang out and Sarah noticed that stones from a large portion of the wall were merrily rolling out of place and settling around the tiny plot of land. Through this new hole emerged a giant beast. It was about the size of a 500 pound bear, its fur was wild and matted, and its lower jaw extended further than the upper jaw, revealing two large, tusk-like teeth. The monster turned its great head to look at her, and for a moment Sarah considered running down the path, other predators be damned. But something in his eyes held her; he looked sad, like a puppy that had been punished but didn't understand why. Something tickled in the back of her memory. She had met this creature before, she was sure of it.

"Sarah friend," he said in a deep and gentle voice.

A switch flipped somewhere, and light dawned in Sarah's eyes. A giant beast with ginger orange fur, who looked a terrible menace but was really the sweetest thing she had ever met. "Ludo?" She whispered quietly.

He hunched his shoulders slightly, and lumbered closer to where she was standing. "Ludo sad," he whimpered.

Sarah reached out to comfort her sensitive friend but the world around her faded away before she could even touch him.

_

* * *

He was furious._

_Thirteen weeks had passed, and he had utilized that time to the very best of his ability. He thought his Kingdom was as ready as it was ever going to be._

_But the humans had not come as unprepared as he had anticipated._

_Before, he had been intent on watching this game be played out with mild indifference on his part, his only concern being to protect the land and his people. Now he would enter the game as well, and truly be the vengeful god from their nightmares, using every trick he had at his command to stop them. _

_They had come with shovels, axes, knives, swords, spears, and gunpowder. The humans had come for a war._

_He would give them a war, one that they would never forget. The wind howled and his kingdom grew dark. Slowly he wrapped his silent web around a few mortals, tapping into the darkness within their hearts. Things began to creep in the shadows now, stalking their unintentional creators. _

_This was a game that they could never win. They were expecting a monster, so he'd give them one. If they wanted a villain, then he'd be it! 'After all,' he thought bitterly, 'I would hate to disappoint their expectations of me, since that's what started this damn mess in the first place!'_

_Invisible tendrils wrapped around ankles and necks, delving deep into their fears and fantasies. The King saw it all and, for truly the first time in his life, laughed in pure malicious ecstasy. He knew exactly how to repay them for their impudence and stupidity._

_Somewhere in the twisting corridors, tucked deep in inky shadows, screaming rang out like a siren. It wasn't long before it was silenced._

* * *

She wanted desperately to wake up. Large chucks of memory were quickly filtering back into her brain, filling in gaps of a puzzle that she hadn't even been aware of. It was dizzying, but something was preventing her from fully accepting the magnitude of such recoveries. Her mind was saving the brunt of this new information for when she was truly awake.

Sarah desperately clawed upwards from the abyss, but the higher she climbed the heavier she felt. With a scream of frustration she sensed whatever it was that had been supporting her blink out of existence. She seemed frozen in place momentarily, but gravity soon exerted itself and she plunged deeper down into the darkness, her hair whipping about her face violently. 'I could use some Helping Hands right about now,' she thought desperately, hoping that where ever it was she landed was made of cushy mattresses or pillows.

* * *

If she had been fully conscious, Sarah was pretty certain her head would be pounding from all this warped traveling.

The room she now found herself in had a dirt floor, four uneven stone walls, and a rough wooden ceiling. She seemed to be stuck to the ceiling, attached to it somehow. Or perhaps she wasn't actually a part of this dream, merely witnessing it instead.

"I would _really_ like to go home now!" she shouted, struggling to wake up. There was a hum from somewhere behind her, and suddenly she found that her perspective had shifted so she was looking across the room rather than down on it. Sarah tensed (wondering briefly how she could tense and shout when it felt as though she didn't actually have a body). Those invisible eyes were watching her again.

A hatch in the ceiling opened and Sarah watched with interest as a rope ladder was lowered to the ground. At first she thought it was a short hairy man descending the ladder, but as she looked closer she could see that that wasn't quite true. A small orange-red fox dressed in bright velvet and brocade had just entered the room. He had a patch over one eye and seemed to be holding what was either a spear or a very short jousting pole. With a stealth that the human eye almost couldn't follow, he made his way to a dummy set up in one corner and began to practice an odd form of fighting that seemed to rely heavily on his speed and hurling very antiquated insults.

"I know I'm supposed to know you; I've know all the other ones so far," Sarah mumbled to herself, straining her memory as far as it could go. "I have a stuffed animal that looks just like you," she realized.

The fox-man whirled around, eyes searching around the room. "Lady Sarah?" He questioned hesitantly to an apparently empty room. "Hast thou called me out?"

And just like before with the other two dreams, something suddenly clicked into place. He was a knight, a bit on the loud side, and not very well aware of his surroundings, but a brave and loyal fox nonetheless. "Sir Didymus!" she cried out happily.

But he was already fading from view, still searching for a voice that he may or may not have heard.

* * *

"Alright," Sarah shouted out into the void, "who else have I forgotten?! It's not like I don't appreciate getting all this back, but I've had just about enough for one night. I want to wake up. _NOW!_" The words echoed out into the nothingness until it became an endless demand, continuously bouncing back at her from everywhere and nowhere at all.

A quiet chuckle sliced through her circling protestations. A shape moved in the dark, and an almost silent hum slowly began to reach her ears. Those eyes. Whoever this was they were the owner of those eyes that had been following her, for she could feel them staring at her intently, even if she couldn't see anything. As the figure drew closer she felt a hand reached out to brush the hair back from her neck.

* * *

A/N: …I didn't mean to stop it there, but the part I started writing next sounded like it would go into the next chapter better than here. So sorry for the mild (completely non-existant) cliffhanger. The italicized parts are getting slightly more dramatic than I originally intended, but I suppose that's what happens when you start dissecting the psychology of a character, they kind of get away from you. A few reviewers have expressed some confusion about these italicized sections, and I'd just like to clear up that, yes, these parts are happening in the past, and yes they are about the person that most of you have guessed.

I'd like to apologize for the mild delay on this chapter. I had it written, but I didn't have the time to upload it on Monday because I spent 8 hours working on a research paper.

Anyway, tell me what you thought about it! Please review! Thanks.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth, that all belongs to Henson productions, Brian Froud, and Terry Jones. I just have a few ideas that I like to mess around with.


	6. Beginnings Part One

Chapter Six: Beginnings Part One.

Sarah woke up screaming; a name was on the tip of her tongue but not yet ready to be recovered. The side of her neck tingled where it had been brushed by an invisible hand, and the word 'Soon' kept whispering across the back of her mind. Disoriented, she pulled the bedcovers up to her chest and looked around. For a moment her room seemed completely alien to her, but as she blinked familiarity slowly crept back; the room was as it had always been, small but clean, with little furniture other than her bed, a dresser, and her vanity table. Some would call it Spartan but despite that she had always felt it had a certain homey quality to it.

Leaning back onto her pillows, Sarah sighed and tried to calm her nerves. That last dream had started to freak her out. Something had been stalking her the whole time. She wasn't sure how it was possible for the same thing to follow her through three different dreams, but it definitely had. She shuddered, remembering its brief touch; she didn't even want to think about what might have happened if she hadn't woken up just then. Her mind shied away from the topic, settling on the sturdier ground of what she had seen in those dreams.

Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and brief glimpses of the Labyrinth.

Tears quickly sprang to her eyes. They had helped her through that confusing place, saved her life on more than one occasion, and how had she repaid them? She had forgotten everything. This went so far beyond simply denying that they had been real; she had outright wiped their very existence from her mind. It was betrayal on some very basic level. A few tears slipped down her cheeks as she thought of those that she had yet to remember. And she knew that there had to be others; she could now feel the emptiness where something had once resided. 'What sort of friend am I to simply forget about them? That's like forgetting about my family; it's simply something that isn't done!' Sarah thought dejectedly.

_

* * *

He gazed at those who had thus far survived his trickery. Their numbers had dwindled but then, so had his. Humans were much more tenacious than he had given them credit for. His gaze quickly turned to a glare. Loyal subject had died by those hands, and he wanted to make them suffer for it dearly, but he would have to let some of them go. If there were no survivors then there could be no stories to perpetuate a reputation._

_He would recede, fold his kingdom into a new space and leave the human realm. Then he would bide his time, perhaps a century, two at most, long enough to be remembered but relegated to bedtime stories and threats against misbehaving younglings. And when he came back he fully intended to wreak havoc, to have his revenge. He would only enter the mortal world at their request and, slowly but surely, he would take away what they prized most._

_So, they valued their children enough to war with a Fae King, did they?_

* * *

She didn't have time to mope over her new discoveries because Toby had pounded into her room, demanding that she get up and play with him. Breakfast was spent playing cards, the rest of the morning passed in round after round of checkers and mancala, and the afternoon had snuck by in a few drawn out games of Battle Ship. Small things had come back to her over the course of the day. During one of the card games she remembered the Fireys and their desire to detach her head. Later, during an important move in checkers, she had recalled the little blue worm who kept offering her 'a cuppa tea'. Then, in the midst of Battle Ship, she recalled cackling goblins, complaining doorknockers, and a Wise Man with a wisecracking bird for a hat. Half of the day she felt somewhere between quietly sobbing and laughing hysterically. Toby had managed to capitalize on her constant distraction and had won nearly every game, eventually dismissing her in annoyance, saying that if she wasn't going to even put in the effort then he would play with someone else.

It wasn't until early evening that Sarah found herself alone with her thoughts again. She sat at her vanity, head resting on folded arms, and gazed into the mirror as though she could see straight through it directly into the Labyrinth.

'But shouldst thou have need of us…'

'Yes, if you need us…'

"I'll call," Sarah whispered to the replayed words of her friends. She wanted to call them, desperately, but she didn't know if they would answer. Were they angry with her? Did they know that they had been forgotten, or did they merely think she had grown away from them? Would they even remember her? She had no idea how time passed in the Labyrinth, for all she knew her adventure could have happened a hundred years ago, or a thousand, or even yesterday afternoon. Briefly an image of a thirteen hour clock flashed through her mind, but the thought quickly became insubstantial, as though it was the final stretch of a path she had not yet begun to walk down.

Sighing, she glanced to her left, her gaze landing on the mysterious note. 'Why now?' she thought to herself. 'Why at all, really,' Sarah snorted. 'Something must have happened for me to suddenly remember all this stuff. But what and why exactly am I involved?' She let out a frustrated huff. 'I'm missing too much to understand what's going on, and those shadows were no help at all.' Her gaze shifted back to the mirror. She focused on it intently for a few moments, then mumbled, "I'm probably overreacting, but all the same I wish I knew what was going on. Maybe I wouldn't be talking to my own reflection if I knew there was nothing to worry about."

_

* * *

Of the mortals that had stormed into his lands less than a third were able to leave. He had watched them go, hating them and the freedom that his new plan had given them. By all rights their lives belonged to him, he should have been able to deal with them as he saw fit. But he knew that it wouldn't be enough; when they had entered his domain with the intent of battle it had been an insult against his entire race, and so he intend to take his revenge upon all of theirs. They had staggered away, some of them weeping, others blessing their own skills, not realizing that the only reason they had escaped his hold was because he had willed it to be so. Even now he wanted to reach out and reclaim their lives for his own, but he knew they had a purpose to serve. Like all good survivors they would recover and tell gruesome stories of their struggles to those who would listen. Without his aid at all, they would paint tales of pure horror: corridors with minds of their own, forests filled with nightmare creatures, gardens possessing flowers with the power to ensnare the minds of great men, and a cruel King with a lust for blood. They would be passed down from generation to generation, getting more fantastic and outrageous every time they were told. The humans would easily remember him a hundred years from now._

_He shifted on his throne agitatedly, sparing his victims one last glance in a gazing crystal, before setting his mind to business. There would be much to do in the coming years, but first he had to separate his kingdom from the mortal world. It would be dangerous work, and the amount of magic it would take was daunting. He had never really tested the limit of his abilities; it was one thing to change the land, it was quite another to shift it all into another dimension entirely. The King had manipulated space before, but never on such a grand scale. Quietly, he rose from is throne and headed towards his study. There was much research to be done._

* * *

This time Sarah knew that she hadn't gone to sleep. One minute she had been sitting in front of her vanity, the next she was outside somewhere.

The land around her was nestled between sloping mountains, and the small valley seemed surrounded by trees but naturally open near the center. Snow covered everything in a fine even layer and glittered like pearl dust in the moonlight, casting a faint bluish-silver glow around the clearing. The night was silent, save for the occasional rustle from a tree branch caught in the gentle breeze. Her breath hung in the air in concentrated little puffs, and ice quietly crunched under her… booted feet? Looking down at herself for the first time, Sarah realized that she was no longer wearing her pajamas of comfy sweat pants and a baggy flannel shirt. She seemed to be in a dress of some kind, but it was obscured by her coat, which was long, dark, and made out of a heavy material that she couldn't quite place. It felt like a cross between velvet and fur, but with the warmth of thick wool.

Enchanted by her surroundings, and not knowing what else to do, Sarah began to walk further into the clearing.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short, but I'm running a bit behind schedule (there's only a month left to the semester, so naturally the professors all choose now for their projects and papers). I've been a tad busy lately, so you'll have to excuse the minor delay on this chapter. This wasn't really the best place to end it, but this part is somewhat long and complex so I've decided to divide it into two parts (sadly this means all the boring stuff happened in this chapter, and all the interesting stuff will happen next). Oh yes, and I know I've already mentioned that the italics are happening in the past, but I would also like to add that Sarah is not seeing any of it. It is more or less a second story line that is weaving itself around the first story line. Confusing, yes?

As always I ask that you please spare the extra minute it takes to review. I'd like to know what you think: comments, suggestions, questions, anything! And many thanks to those of you who have already reviewed, it is greatly appreciated.


	7. Beginnings Part Two

Chapter Seven: Beginnings Part Two.

_It had taken many weeks to find a spell that he could adapt enough to serve his purpose, and several more weeks to spread the news around his Kingdom sufficiently._

_It had taken 76 hours to reach the full depth of his own power, and another 48 to weave the spell properly. His domain had spent that 48 hours wavering between two realms, being in both and yet neither all at once. When the spell had _finally_ been completed, his lands occupied a space just underneath the mortal world. _

_He spent the next six days somewhere between death and delirium. Healers and mages could do nothing for him; by all rights their King should have died._

_Sheer stubbornness alone delivered him out of the bony clutched of Death. _

* * *

The clearing hadn't looked very large at first glance, but now that Sarah was walking through it, it seemed to stretch on forever. There were no dancing or flitting shadows this time around, no foggy voids, no friends to be remembered; she was completely alone in an empty valley. _

* * *

The years passed, as they are wont to do, and steadily he repaired the damage the humans had inflicted. He slowly expanded the walls of his Kingdom, making it larger and more complex; he wanted to make sure that_ no one _would ever be able to make it through without his will. The first few years were slow, but as he regained his strength his malicious enthusiasm returned. One hundred and sixty-nine years of feverish improvements passed before he decided that he had waited long enough. _

_He began watching the humans, looking for a weakness to exploit. Already he knew that he wanted to take their children, but he had to figure out how to extract the most amount of pain from the act. He wanted the perfect revenge. And the more he watched the more he realized something: humans were creatures of whims, impatient and prone to saying things they did not mean._

_The first one had almost been too easy. She was a new mother, couldn't have been older than fourteen, and her little one had been crying for hours on end. In a fit of frustration she had shouted at the babe, "I wish someone would come and take you away!" He was all too happy to oblige._

"_Oh god, you're him, aren't you? The King who wielded nightmares against those of Dun Rih!"_

_She had trembled and pleaded, even cried, but he was unmoved. "If you want the babe back," he had whispered once her sobs quieted, "then all you must do is find him."_

"_Where is he?" She looked at him with wide, watery eyes._

"_He is in my castle, beyond the Goblin City." Suddenly the walls around them melted, and his lands stood before them. A twisting Labyrinth spread out before their eyes, complex and frightening._

"_I must solve this to get to him?" she choked on a sob._

"_You have thirteen hours before I claim your son as one of my subjects," one hour for every week it had taken to build the original Labyrinth. He had left her then, but watched her progress through the twisting maze._

_It had been embarrassing in some respects; she was determined to save her baby yet she was practically a child herself, and so many of her efforts merely lead her in the wrong direction. He had spared her from some of the true horrors he had to offer, knowing this one, at the very least, would have to be sent back alive to add a new layer to his reputation. All too soon the thirteen hours came to a close, and he had sent her back to her own realm, a miserable weeping wretch._

_Of course, he then had the problem of figuring out what to do with the baby. _

* * *

Sarah sighed. "What's the point to this one? I'm tired, and my toes are going numb, so could we please speed this up a bit?" 

"How very impatient of you, my dear," the voice was rich, smooth, and dark, like triple chocolate cake, caramel flavored coffee, and silk-laced velvet.

She shivered slightly, whether from the cold or that tone she was uncertain, and strained her eyes in the semi-darkness, looking for where the speaker could be. No more than a few paces ahead of her someone had appeared. The night seemed darker around him (for that voice was undoubtedly male) than anywhere else in the valley and it kept her from gaining any definite grasp on his features. He was tall and slim, but aside from that she could determine nothing. It was as if she were trying to see him through a layered gossamer veil, gaining glimpses but no more. She took a few cautious steps forward. He was juggling snowballs. Juggling… why did that sound wrong? But it was; whatever the man was doing, juggling seemed too crude a word to describe it. His motions were so fluid and graceful that it was as though his will guided the movements rather than his hands.

"Am I supposed to know you too?" she asked quietly.

"You _do_ know me," he asserted, never once faltering or looking away from his hand-work.

"Do I?" she furrowed her brow.

_("You're him, aren't you? You're the-")_

"Don't you?" He mocked, glancing her way.

_(A proud arrogant face cocked to the side, smile mocking, and uneven blue eyes flashing with undisguised amusement.)_

Sarah frowned. "You seem kind of familiar, but nothing is really coming to mind."

"You wound me, Sarah. Am I really that easily forgotten?" For a moment she thought she saw a flash of blond hair through his cloak of darkness.

_(Hair that was wild, flying out in every conceivable direction, the color of pale gold with the beautiful sheen of corn silk.)_

"I keep getting these little echoes of things I think I'm supposed to know," she admitted.

_(His clothes were dark and imposing, clinging to him as though they had been sewn around his body, rather than simply tailored to fit.)_

"Commit to them, Sarah. Catch them, keep them. Remember," he was back to staring at his gently moving hands, but he sounded more serious now.

_(His words were mocking, but his eyes held a certain amount of fondness and respect for accepting his challenge.)_

"It's just… I don't know if I want to. No offense, but I kind of have a wary feeling about all this. Why can't I see you like the others?"

_("So the Labyrinth is a piece of cake, is it? Well, let's see how you deal with this little slice.")_

"I pierced the veil for you those times. I could do so right now, but I'd rather you remember me on your own or not at all." He seemed to be getting more solid around the edges but only if she didn't try to focus on them too much.

_("You're no match for me Sarah.")_

"Wait, so you're saying that you basically forced me to remember the others?" She inched slightly closer.

_("Turn back Sarah. Turn back before it's too late," but the voice sounded as though it were egging her on rather than warning her off.)_

"More or less," he admitted carelessly. "I was rather tired of holding on to their memories for you."

_("I am exhausted of living up to your expectations of me.")_

Sarah frowned once again. "Hold on, you made me forget them in the first place?"

"More or less," the tone was increasingly amused now, and she could have sworn she caught a brief glimpse of a smile.

_(It was a smile that sent shivers down her spine. It was blindingly white and his canine teeth were delicately pointed, but she had no doubt that they could be as wickedly sharp as any knife. It was a smile that at its worst sent homicidal maniacs running in terror, and at its best had women swooning all around him.)_

"Who are you?" Something in the back of her mind was straining to be free.

He hummed in a noncommittal fashion, and probably would have waved one of his hands dismissively if they hadn't been otherwise occupied.

Sarah continued to inch forward carefully, and as she drew closer she could see that he wasn't manipulating snowballs at all, but rather smoothly rounded crystals. The sight triggered something deep within her brain.

_("I've brought you a present." _

"_What is it?"_

"_It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams. But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby. Do you want it?" He stilled his busy hands, and held out the crystal in offering. "Then forget about the baby." His smile was haunting and cruel, the very sort of smile you would expect a man of his position to have.)_

Sarah's eyes widened. "Goblin King!" she shouted out in surprised remembrance. His now completely visible form turned towards her, crystals popping into nothingness like soap bubbles.

Quickly, before she could get over her shock enough to move, he grabbed her arm above the elbow. "Well done, my dear."

"Let go," she said with mounting panic. It was one thing to face the Goblin King, it was quite another to have to do so while simultaneously remembering everything she had ever thought about him.

He looked her in the eye for a moment. "We have business to settle."

* * *

A/N: …Ok, that didn't go quite as expected. I had rather hoped to draw out Sarah's remembrance of Jareth for a while, but I figured there's been enough story without having proper Jareth encounters, so here you are. Sorry if the dialog seems strained, I'm usually pretty good at writing conversations, but since there were memories that had to go in between almost every line, I had a bit of trouble keeping the speech fluid. (Oh, and if you're getting concerned with the fact that Jareth seems to be becoming increasingly violent in the italics, don't worry he has a few redeeming moments ahead of him.) 

So, tell me what you thought! Please review!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable as having come from Labyrinth. Everything else belongs to me or folklore.


	8. The Debt

Chapter Eight: The Debt.

_Over a century and a half and he had never once stopped to think about what he would do with the children! _

_He idly drummed his fingers on the side of his throne while staring at the baby sitting on his lap. "I don't know what to do with you," he told the child frankly. The babe just gurgled at him. "I'm telling you because I want us to be clear on this fact later. I didn't plan this far ahead." The baby was ignoring him in favor of jerking the lace fringe at his right wrist. "I wouldn't have even involved you at all, but it was the easiest way to get back at your people for what they did to my lands. You should be thankful that your foolish mother has spared you from my wrath; I can't very well take revenge upon one of my own subjects, now can I?" He leaned further into his throne, thinking. "I would ask you what you'd like to have happen, but you obviously don't care as long as there's something for you to yank on," he said, while trying to wrestle his amulet out of the boy's grasp. "Keep doing that and you'll choke me," he grumbled after a particularly viscous jerk. "You wouldn't want to murder your King before you even got to know him, would you?" The child seemed completely unmoved. He sighed. _

_When he had felt things starting to change all those centuries ago he had never imagined himself being good-naturedly strangled on his own throne. _

* * *

Sarah stared at him in amazement. He was drenched in pitch black and wine red velvet that was decadent and yet viciously male, over which was a heavy black cloak that had silver and blue stitching all throughout it. His skin stood out against the darkness of his clothing, nearly glowing with an inner luminescence. Jareth hadn't changed at all; everything about him was still pale and powerful. She looked down to where his leather encased hand still held her arm and furiously tried to think of what to say. It had to be meaningful, poignant.

"What do you mean business?" She cringed on the inside at the whine she could hear creeping into her voice. That wasn't exactly the line she had been going for, it sounded more petulant than commanding. Trying to redeem herself slightly, she added, "There's nothing to settle. I won, you lost. End of story."

"_That_ story, perhaps. But this is a new one Sarah, and you owe me," he explained patiently.

"I don't owe you anything," she gaped at him, wondering what he was playing at. "Why can't you just leave well enough alone? This hardly seems dignified; you're just being a sore loser!" She tried tugging her arm out of his grasp.

"No one ever said I wasn't. I am a King, my dear, and unaccustomed to loosing," he tightened his grip slightly. "But that is beside the point. I am not acting out of some misguided sense of revenge; you need not worry about that."

Sarah braced her feet apart and tried pulling her arm back with the weight of her body. "Then what _are_ you doing?" she panted out while distractedly deciding she had definitely pulled a muscle in her shoulder.

"Collecting debts," he stated simply. "Now stop that," he added, easily jerking her forward enough that she lost her footing.

She stumbled a bit, but caught herself before she crashed into him. "I already told you that I don't owe you _anything_," she glared and pulled her arm a few times more, just to spite him.

"I beg to differ." Jareth looked as though he were restraining himself from rolling his eyes at her. "Thirteen hours," he stated, tightening his grip a little more.

Sarah hesitated then finally asked, "What?" Was he telling her to run the Labyrinth once more? Sure she had won last time, but now that she had a few extra years behind her and a fresh view of those memories she could see it had more to do with luck than skill. She wasn't sure if she could do it again, especially not without that burning need she'd had to rescue Toby. If she hadn't had that incentive the first time she was fairly certain she would have failed miserably. For one panicked moment she feared that he had kidnapped her little brother again.

"I can see the wheels turning behind those delightful eyes of yours, but you can stop worrying. All I ask for is thirteen hours; no more, no less." His voice was smooth and measured, neither reassuring nor terrifying.

If it was really that simple then why was his grip still tightening? Confused, Sarah dared a glance at his eyes. He seemed to be studying her, calculating. Something else was going on here, she just couldn't fathom at what. With a sinking feeling she asked him to elaborate, "I still don't understand."

Jareth sighed, looking as though he'd love to be pacing if it weren't for the fact that she would have to pace with him or have her arm pulled out of joint. "When you wished your brother away I gave you the chance to win him back. I didn't have to Sarah, but I enjoy playing the game that way, so I did. I gave you thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth and you capitalized on that time to defeat me." His tone softened slightly, "I bare you no ill will. You were an excellent challenge, far greater than I anticipated or I would not have given you such a long limit. I did not have to extend so much time for you, but I did. Well, I want that time back now," he was looking her straight in the eyes with an intensity that frightened her and strengthened her opinion that she was missing something very important.

"Wait! I didn't use all that time; you took a good number of those hours away, remember?" If she hadn't been bargaining with him face to face she would have smiled at his audacity to ask back hours that had never been spent.

"Ah, but you did. Some of those hours might have been spent faster than others, but you were still there when they went passed," he laughed at her expression of outrage.

"That's not fair!" she shouted.

He laughed again. "It wasn't fair that I lost either, so consider us even."

_

* * *

He had considered turning the boy into a goblin but decided against it for the time being. Goblins multiplied like rabbits, they certainly didn't need any help from him. If a time came when the population was straining then perhaps he would, but at the moment it didn't really seem necessary._

_He sighed; this was proving to be more trouble than he had anticipated. It wasn't like he could just leave the babe on its own; human babies were just as defenseless as Fae children at that stage in development. There weren't exactly any other humans he could give the child to, and he doubted any of the Fae would want a son of the race that had killed their fathers. "We'll just have to build you your own little colony, now won't we," he whispered to the sleeping boy. "I'll have to make sure the next ones I take are older. We'll need some responsible humans to look after you little ones." The child rolled over in his sleep. Quietly the King observed him. "Will you be a Prince in this new land I give to you, or just a faceless villager?" he wondered aloud. "You are to be the first of many, boy. They will need guidance; will you give it to them?"_

* * *

"How do you pay back an hour anyway? It's not like money; I don't have a wad of time sitting in the bottom of my purse," Sarah reasoned.

"Don't be stupid, Sarah. You spent my time, now I intend to spend yours," his expression was smooth, nearly emotionless, but she could see his cruel humor lurking in the depths of his eyes. "Thirteen hours, any time and any place I want."

"You're spreading this out?" she asked, horrified. Spending a straight thirteen hours with the Goblin King sounded bad, but not nearly as terrible as him being able to pop in whenever he felt like it. If he only spent a few minutes with her at a time it could take weeks to pay him back!

"I like to make the most of what I am given," he smiled.

"More like taking. Don't I get a say in this at all?" she demanded… or pleaded, depending on which side of the conversation you were on.

"The debtor usually doesn't, but I'm willing to be fair. I'll spare you in return for your brother," he waived carelessly.

"No!" Sarah shouted immediately.

"Well it's settled then: your time in return for the time that was taken from me," there was something altogether too triumphant about his smile.

"Like I have a choice," she muttered angrily. She didn't really. There were many things she would do to get out of an arrangement with Jareth, but sacrificing her brother was not one of them. And, damn the bastard, he knew it too! It had obviously been a trump card of some kind. Whatever he was planning he wanted to make sure that she was a part of it.

"Oh don't look so glum Sarah. You might not even see me for years," he soothed, finally releasing his hold on her arm.

She rubbed her bicep carefully, worried that there would be a hand shaped bruise there. "Really?" she perked up.

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Bastard!" Sarah made a reach to slap his smirking face, but the snowscape around her was suddenly melting. Dimly she could hear him laughing at her.

* * *

The world dissolved and she suddenly found herself sitting at her vanity table again. Sarah blinked a few times, disoriented. She could still hear him laughing if she concentrated. Looking down she realized that she had the note clenched in her hand.

But it wasn't the same note anymore. Where once it had been pale and said only _'Remember'_, it was now dark, aged, and said in an ominous looking script, _'Until next time…'_

* * *

A/N: I'm really sorry for the delay on this one; life got the better of me. Hopefully it won't happen again, but I won't make any promises if I don't know whether I can keep them. Also, I'm sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Certainly wasn't my best work, but it will do for now. We're starting to get into the story proper here, so pay close attention because important things are happening (not that important things haven't already happened…). I hope you all liked the business that Jareth chose to settle. I don't think I've ever seen a story where he asked for his time back.

As always, please review!

Disclaimer: Just about everything here belongs to Henson Productions, Brian Froud, Terry Jones, or David Bowie. I really don't own much.


	9. Too Smug

Chapter Nine: Too Smug.

To say that Sarah was confused would not have been accurate. It was something so far _beyond_ confused that she had no way of describing it. Fate must have been laughing at her; that was the only explanation she could come up with.

The Goblin King, _Jareth_, was back and he wanted something from her. She couldn't quite figure out what, though. Sure he said just a couple of hours but Sarah wasn't willing to believe it could ever be that simple where Jareth was involved. The man thrived on chaos; surely he had something else up his sleeve. Some nasty and devious trap all set up, just waiting to snap shut so that he could have his revenge.

But hadn't he already said he didn't want revenge?

Sarah slapped the surface of her vanity and let out a frustrated yell. 'I can't trust the man anymore than I can get out of his grip.' Speaking of which…

She looked down at her arm. 'Yep,' she thought dejectedly, 'bruised.'

_

* * *

He kept the first dozen or so children with him in the castle. He had found land suitable for their colony and some humans old enough to look after the little ones, but the first dozen were special to him and so he kept them close._

_The very first boy had grown some and was turning into a fine terror indeed. The King smirked, thinking about what would happen when he turned over those small human lands to the boy. He fully intended to make him a prince. The number of humans in his kingdom would grow, and they would need a ruler that they could trust. The boy would defer to him, of course, but still, the mortals would probably be more comfortable dealing with a human prince rather than the Fae King himself._

_It had been hard to decide how much land to set aside for the mortals. The very concept of mortality was a curious thing in his domain, and so each human reacted differently to their new home. Some aged and died like any mortal would, some aged rapidly until they hit full physical maturity and then stopped aging altogether, and others, like his prince, aged almost as slowly as a Fae child would, with changes being very slight and happening over long periods of time. He was curious to see if a pattern would emerge, and the humans slowly became a new species entirely. With so much magical exposure after living in a world that was almost completely devoid of magic, strange things were bound to happen. _

_And he looked forward to every moment of it; now if only there was a way he could rub it into the faces of their parents, he would be truly content. _

* * *

Sarah stood up and turned away from her mirror, not wanting to study the confusion written on her face any longer. She cast wary eyes upon her bed; she was unbelievably tired, but afraid of what her dreams could have in store for her. Was it too much to ask for some time to figure everything out?

But there was nothing _to_ figure out. If she had no clue what was really going on then what difference would time make?

Sighing with a bone-deep weariness someone her age should not have been able to achieve, Sarah quietly got ready for bed. 'I can't figure that man out,' she thought while settling into her covers. 'Maybe he'll leave me alone for a while.'

And if she concentrated just a little, she could almost _feel_ him laughing at her for that thought.

_

* * *

He had given the boy the lands and the power with which to rule them. And what had the prince done?_

_Run off._

'_Cheeky little brat,' he thought fondly._

_The prince was much too like himself in some respects, and not quite enough in others. He made a point to tend to his kingdom, to take care of his people; the boy was hardly ever to be found. To give the lad credit though, he did watch over the human colonies when there seemed to be trouble or unrest, but when things were running smoothly the arrogant mortal twit made a point of disappearing. And always, the boy made trouble: offending this noble, encroaching on the territory of that tribe. _

_The King leaned back into his throne, fingers idly drumming a beat on a crossed leg. He laughed for a moment, wondering where his wayward prince would turn up next._

* * *

She didn't want to dream, she _didn't_, but of course when it came right down to it Sarah really had no choice in the matter. Especially when it was Jareth who was forcing her to dream.

He looked too damn smug, she decided.

This dream appeared to be in a study. The room was comprised of six cherry wood paneled walls that formed an L shape. One leg of the L was filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves that contained volume after volume of leather and vellum bound books (that under any other circumstances would have made her drool in literary induced ecstasy) and ended in a large fireplace, with a green and blue marble mantle, that nearly took up an entire wall. The other leg contained a few cabinets of varying sizes and mysterious contents, some leather and velvet upholstered chairs, and a finely carved, dark wood desk. A desk she was glaring at because she couldn't stand looking at the person who was seated behind it any longer. It really was a fine desk, she thought distantly, there were adorable little beasties carved into the legs, and beautiful dancing pixies ran around the edges.

He was laughing at her, damn it, and she didn't want to look up. He was simply radiating arrogance and she was in no mood to acknowledge his high-and-mighty ass. But of course, now she _was_ looking up, because Jareth just had this way of forcing you to pay attention to him, whether you wanted to or not.

And if that frightening smirk on his face was anything to go by, he was still being way too smug.

"Didn't I _just_ get rid of you?" Yes it was rude, but Sarah was frustrated and it did, more or less, break the ice. Better than his laughing did, anyway.

He brought a hand to his heart in mock pain, but his smirk only grew deeper. "There's still the matter of a contract," at least he wasn't openly mocking her anymore.

Well that sounded entirely unpleasant. "Why does that sound like I'm getting in too deep?" she questioned cautiously.

Jareth waved her paranoia aside like he was batting at so many insignificant flies. "I merely need physical proof that you have agreed to my terms."

"The fact that you're not still clinging to my arm like a limpet is proof enough for me," she shot back. "Thanks for the bruises by the way," she muttered darkly while rubbing her arm. "If I didn't have to sign anything in order to run the Labyrinth, then I'm not signing anything now."

He sighed dramatically, then said, "Let me put it this way Sarah: You either agree to my terms, and sign my contract giving up a measly thirteen hours of your time, or I take back your brother as compensation."

"You really enjoy dragging that out, don't you?" she glared at him.

"If it gets you to sign, then I have no problem using the love you have for your brother against you," and he seemed way too at ease with having said that. Like ripping Toby out of her life meant nothing to him.

'Of course,' she realized angrily, 'it probably _doesn't_ mean anything to him.' She sighed. "What, exactly, are these 'terms' I'm agreeing to?"

He studied her for a minute longer than was comfortable, then smiled devilishly. "Does it truly matter? I was under the impression you would do anything to keep you beloved brother safe."

"You're not getting him," she grit out through clenched teeth. "I just want to know what to expect."

"I already told you what to expect earlier. Honestly Sarah, one would think you'd listen better," his voice was sharp and clear and _he was mocking her again_.

"And that's exactly it, right? Just thirteen hours?" she tried searching his face for something, but the Goblin King was entirely too composed.

Jareth simply smiled and pushed the (recently appeared) paper in front of her, a quill waiting in his had.

It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't actually answered her, but there were only so many times that the man could threaten her with her family before she realized that no matter what he wanted she would agree, because in the end she had no choice. And really, what was thirteen hours if it meant that her sweet, but oddly bright, brother could continue living his hyper kindergarten life? She would give up 100 hours if it would ensure his safety.

But that didn't make it any easier to take the quill out of his hand. He was watching her intently and it suddenly felt as though she were about to sign the rest of her life away. As she eased the weight of the quill between her own fingers (trying to find the position that felt the least awkward) it felt like the entire world was crushing down upon her.

"Just sign your name Sarah," Jareth soothed, making it sound as though every problem she'd ever encountered could be solved with the flourish of that quill.

She wouldn't look at him, didn't want to see whatever emotion was playing across that ethereal face. Sarah took a deep breath, bit her lip (wondering if she was making a huge mistake, or if he was just trying to make her uncomfortable for his own sadistic pleasure), and scrawled her name in rather inept calligraphy along the bottom of the page.

As soon as the quill left the paper it exploded into a puff of slowly crystallizing smoke and Sarah's world exploded into mind numbing pain.

* * *

A/N: Beware my cliffhanger! Don't worry; I haven't killed Sarah or anything.

WOW! I am REALLY sorry for the delay on this one. I mean, terribly sorry. First it was the holidays and the chaos of a full house then it was projects and papers for school. Just as a heads up, the next chapter might be a bit delayed as well, because I have Finals next week. But after that I've got nothing until the new semester, so as long as I don't get utterly possessed by holiday fever, you all should get a couple of decent chapters between now and then.

Please leave me a review; they make me dance like an idiot!

Disclaimer: Ich habe nichts.


	10. The Contract

Chapter Ten: The Contract.

_It just wasn't the same anymore._

_The first few hundred years that he had started to exact his revenge upon the humans had been interesting. Watching the mortals bumble their way through his Labyrinth had been endlessly entertaining, as had the pain and desperation in their eyes when the moment came that they realized they could never win. He had enjoyed sending them back to their empty lives, bitterly weeping their own foolishness. His plan had worked out quite well: emotionally killing the humans while bolstering the numbers of his own kingdom. And it had been utterly wonderful._

_Until now._

_Perhaps it was the monotony of routine that bothered him, or the fact that after a few hundred years he had seen nearly every reaction the mortals could offer. There simply was no challenge to it. To be fair, his plan hadn't been designed to give him challenges, but it was truly starting to wear on him. For a while he had tried distracting himself with the mortals he had claimed, and it had almost worked. He forged relationships, gained their trust, studied the changes that were being wrought in them from his world, taught them whatever magic they could handle. But that formed a new routine that was suddenly just as boring as his revenge. Not that he would ever truly tire of his revenge, he had sworn to slowly destroy the human race, but there was only so much that he could take at one time. _

* * *

It felt as though someone had replaced her blood with angry blue fire. It pushed through her veins at a leisurely pace, and Sarah was dimly aware that her own voice was crying out in pain. For a moment it reached an intensity that had her certain she would be burned from the inside-out, but it slowly began to recede until it was centralized at her upper arm. She cried out again but it was short lived this time; with so much pain in one single area her arm began to feel numb.

Sarah's vision continued to swim for a minute longer before her eyes finally began to clear; feeling started to return to her. The dim firelight in Jareth's study seemed as bright as the sun to her sensitive eyes, which only increased the fierce pounding in her head. She was sweating, as testified by the few locks of hair which clung to her forehead, and tear tracks were slowly drying over her cheeks. Her vision swam and she winced slightly upon hearing the gentle scrape of a desk drawer being opened and closed, causing her head to pound mercilessly. A few more minutes passed before Sarah trusted herself enough to speak.

"What the hell did you just do?" She had wanted that to come out angry and demanding, but at the moment all she could manage was a cracked whisper.

Jareth studied her small form sitting limp and listless in the chair across from his desk. If he felt regret or triumph at whatever he had done it didn't show; his face was impassive and emotionless, like a fine porcelain mask. Silently he stood and made his way to a cabinet just out of Sarah's line of vision; when he returned he had a small decanter and a glass. Just as quietly he poured some dark golden liquid into the glass and offered it to her.

Sarah glared at his hand, too tired to lift her head up to look him in the eye. "Why should I trust you?" came her angry whisper.

Jareth shook his head, smiling that secretive smile of his, "I think one bout of hideous pain is enough for tonight, don't you?"

She continued to glare at his hand but took the glass anyway. Cautiously she sniffed at the drink inside. Curiosity getting the better of her she finally asked, "What is it?"

"Something to get a little strength back into those lazy limbs of yours," he replied while seating himself behind his desk once more.

"Yes, but what _is_ it?"

"Brandy," he answered, while she chocked on the first burning mouthful. "Peach and Plum brandy to be exact, although I doubt you'll taste any of it if you keep coughing like that," he chuckled at her.

Sarah shivered slightly from the mention of peaches, and wondered if it would be pointless to explain to him that she was too young to drink. Probably; he didn't strike her as someone who would be terribly concerned about underage drinking. It was most likely perfectly normal where he came from.

Her throat was burning now, and she wanted to yell at him but she could feel some energy returning and decided to let this one slide. There would be other things to argue about, things that didn't involve her being grateful to him for taking away the numbness that had been consuming her insides.

Her arm throbbed slightly, which brought her back to, "What did you do to me?"

Jareth leaned across his desk and gently rolled up her sleeve with one long fingered hand. "That," he pointed.

Where Sarah's arm had once been bruised by the same hand that was holding her sleeve up there was now a braided circlet tattooed into her skin. Three strands of color (silver, green, and gold) wove around her bicep, occasionally decorated with what looked like red and black daisies, and at the center of which was a terribly fancy J done in a deep midnight blue. Under any other circumstances Sarah would have loved the design, but for the moment she settled with staring at it in horror.

"If you want that to come off you'll have to make it through every last second of those thirteen hours. Just think of it as insurance on my part, a way of making sure you fulfill your end of the agreement," Jareth breezed through the explanation with the air of one discussing trivial details.

"Isn't that what the contract was for?!" She shouted, her voice returned by alcohol and anger.

"No, the contract was for this," he explained while making a small sweeping gesture with his hand; in his palm a tiny hourglass formed in much the same way she had seen him create his crystals. It was made of pale wood that had been beautifully carved into Celtic knots, glass that was tinted a faint green, and filled with very fine black sand. He flipped it over and set it down. "Your time is up when the sand runs out, after which I will remove this," Jareth explained, briefly caressing the mark on her arm with a leather covered thumb.

Sarah shivered and pulled her arm out of his grasp. "And how am I supposed to explain the sudden appearance of a tattoo to my parents?" she asked furiously.

He shrugged his shoulders, "You're a smart girl, I'm sure you'll think of something."

He laughed outright at her low growl of annoyance.

When his laughing showed little sign of abating she finally snarled at him. "Are you done with me for now, because I've had more than enough of you for a lifetime!" She would have pounded her fists on the desk but decided she hadn't recovered enough yet for that.

"Oh, I suppose so," he sighed dramatically. "But beware, Sarah. The shorter the time you spend with me, the longer this whole ordeal will stretch out."

_

* * *

He needed something new, something different; a challenge worthy of his great skills._

* * *

Sarah awoke with a groan, her bicep throbbing painfully. Momentarily disoriented, she glanced around her room. It was dark and the angry digital numbers on her clock read 12:00 am. 'Still night then,' she sighed. She rubbed her arm and sat up, tired but no longer wanting to sleep for fear of dreaming.

Sarah got out of bed and began to pace the length of her small room.

Jareth had always had the amazing ability to bother her with whatever he said, but something about their last encounter had her on edge. The way he had acted that night, the way he had carried himself, it had been different from the man she had seen in the Labyrinth. He had always frightened her before, but tonight he had seemed… dangerous. Sarah paused at that thought. He hadn't done anything that had made her feel any more threatened than she usually did in his presence, but there had been something in the air around him that spoke of… spoke of what? She wanted to say violence or perhaps cruelty, but he was always cruel and violence didn't quite sound right. It had been something intense, whatever it was; something that seemed second nature to him, as though it had been there all along and she had only now just noticed it or perhaps he had hidden it from her before. And she had agreed to spend thirteen hours with this man that scared her like no other could! She shivered at the thought of what their next meeting could bring.

Sarah paced a little more, looking like a caged animal, before spotting something on her vanity that hadn't been there when she had gone to sleep. Idly she rubbed her fingers over the slightly raised skin of her new tattoo while stepping closer to take a look. Sitting oh-so-innocently in the center of her vanity was the hourglass.

There was just the barest trickle of black sand in the bottom bulb.

* * *

A/N: I should be studying for my finals right now. Just goes to show you how dedicated I am to my writing (or how terrible I am at studying, I suppose). There probably won't be any posts after this until Thursday, but after that it's free reign 'til January 4th! You _might_ just be getting a lot of holiday updates, because yours truly has no life.

Anyway, thanks very much for reading. Please leave me a nice shiny review! (Or questions, comments, suggestions, _polite_ and _constructive_ criticism (not that anyone has been impolite yet, or anything) .) Thanks again!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for a bunch of books and a small horde of school supplies. Now, if you're willing to trade…


	11. Jareth, Part One

Chapter Eleven: Jareth, Part One.

_He had turned to wooing women, learning the art of seduction. But it was too damn easy. The ladies of his kingdom fell at his feet by the dozen, never denying him nor needing coaxing of any sort. His beauty and grace were enchanting even to his own kind, and if that wasn't enough his status could more than entice them._

_And so, for the first time in his immortal life, the King despaired, fearing that there was nothing that could ease his near fatalistic boredom. _

_But then he heard it, a quiet calling. One small voice crying out amongst millions. A voice that wasn't summoning him to perpetuate his revenge. _

_Quietly he slipped into the mortal realm, following the pull to where ever it would take him. _

_

* * *

The hospital ward was quiet, which was surprising considering the fact that it was the nursery he had appeared in. The walls were pale and pasty looking, the floor was covered in a heavily scuffed tile, and the lights were kept slightly dimmed. Dozens of newborn babies slept peacefully, twitching occasionally with the very first of many dreams. A few nurses bustled about, completely oblivious to their ethereal visitor._

_The King paused, confused. The pull was here, there could be no mistaking that, but how could such a strong calling have come from a babe? He prowled between the rows of humans, looking for the entire world like an angry wolf among tiny little sheep._

'_Which one?' he growled to himself, looking left and right at sleeping girls and boys who looked passed him thanks to his cloaking magic. A nurse walked straight through him and it crossed his mind that perhaps it had been one of them rather than the children. _

_A wail interrupted his thoughts and he was drawn to it as if it were a Siren's call. The nurse that had strode through him rushed to a pram on the other side of the room, seeing to the child. With a stride full of purpose and pursuit the King stepped beside the nurse to take a look at the babe. _

_The wailing ceased._

_A pair of baby blue eyes stared up at him in wonder. Not _through_ him, as they should have, but _at_ him. So, this was his caller. This tiny little girl had reached out to him in the Underground all the way from here. Something in his chest tightened painfully. He reached out a hand to brush against her tiny brow, but the nurse was lifting her now, taking her away. With a snarl he made to go after her, but there was a new summons filling him, a call for his revenge. He studied the girl being taken away from him for a moment longer then vanished with an angry flash of magic, ready to give hell to whoever had pulled him away from this meeting._

_

* * *

It was a dry but gloomy day, gray clouds masked a sky of endless blue, and a stiff autumn breeze whipped fallen leaves through the air. He went to their parks sometimes, though they were a mockery of nature when compared to his mighty forests, and disguised himself as a young boy so as to study his quarry, his adversaries, his prey. Today he was a strapping boy of ten dressed in a black woolen coat with a fire red scarf draped loosely about his shoulders and his pale blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail at the back of his neck. With the grace and ease of a true hunter, the parentless boy blended into the crowd seamlessly, never once drawing unwanted eyes to himself._

_Further down the path he kicked a rock sullenly. 'What is the point in all this preparation if I know I'm always going to beat them?' Boredom had given way to depression, which was why he found himself as a little boy hiding in a park in the human world on one of the greatest celebrated holidays of his kind. He should have been at his castle, entertaining the nobles that would begin to pour in for the gala that night, but he just couldn't bring himself to face them right now; he was tired of playing nice around Fae he hated just because he couldn't afford to loose their support in whatever venture he happened to be campaigning. And god, the women! He was sick and tired of his advisory council dragging every eligible woman before him in an effort to get him to finally take a wife and produce an heir. He wouldn't be able to stomach that right now. Something was wrong; his emotions were too raw, too close to the surface today._

_Someone let out the scream of frustration that he had felt bubbling up from his lungs._

_Ahead of him was a little girl, no older than four, who was trying to keep her long hair out of her face. She was no match for the persistent wind however, for every time she pushed her chocolate colored locks behind her ears Mother Nature would soon whip them back into her face and over her eyes. The girl stomped her tiny foot and let out another frustrated grunt. He had almost walked completely passed her before she managed to subdue her hair. _

"_Now stop it!" she cried up to the sky, eyes flashing and small fists shaking in anger._

_He stopped dead; he knew this child. The eyes were different, a hazel green instead of baby blue, but he had felt the pull of her calling before and there could be no mistaking her. How such a small creature could be filled with so much want as to be able to summon a Fae King, he had no idea. _

"_Don't stare at me," she grumbled at him, pushing tiny curls behind her ears. _

"_Sorry," he spoke the foreign word quietly, chuckling as the breeze blew her hair about again. Sniggering at her angry glare, he pulled the thin leather tie out of his own hair. "Here," he offered, stepping behind her and gently gathering her tresses into a long ponytail. "Better?" the boy-king asked once he had finished._

_She moved her head from side to side, testing the tie's durability. "Yes," she said, reaching her decision. The girl turned around to face him, "But won't your hair blow around now?" Her little brow wrinkled in concern, as though that were the worst fate she could imagine befalling anyone._

"_Sarah? Baby-doll, where did you go?" A honeyed voice called out. _

"_I was going home anyway," he answered before she dashed off up the hill where the woman had called._

"_Thank you!" the girl shouted over her shoulder, never looking back at the boy who had, indeed, already gone home. _

_

* * *

He wasn't sure how or even why but the girl, Sarah, was connected to him. When she was angry he became frustrated, when she was happy he felt near euphoric, when she was sad he was overcome with the urge to break glass and crystals alike, and when she wanted something he ached to be the one to give it to her._

_And he had only seen the girl twice!_

_It was true that in days long since passed the Fae had been deeply connected to humans. Mortals were creatures practically made of nothing but want, and faery folk were creatures that thrived on strong emotions. The Fae had been able to grant and deny human wishes at will, soaking in the delight and despair that they caused. But that had come to an end once he had moved his kingdom to the Underground; aside from himself and the few who lived within the Labyrinth proper, human contact had all but ceased for his people. Occasionally a mortal could fill with so much longing that they inadvertently sent out a tiny burst of magic, a calling to the one who would best be able to answer it, but it was unlikely that the summons would reach its' destination and if it did it was highly unlikely that it would be strong enough to lead the Fae back to its' origin. _

_But that girl had done it. With only a few hours of life behind her, she had sent out the strongest calling he had ever felt in his long life. And not only that, but she had called him, HIM! A King; no, not _A_ king, but _THE_ King. It was unheard of. Most scholars had agreed that the line of the kings had always been gifted with great power and were therefore immune to the call. What could such a small creature want so fiercely that the only one in all of existence with the ability to accommodate her was him? Not even the great Napoleon, who had wanted the entire world to bow before his might, had had the strength to send a calling to the King. But that small slip of a girl, this little Sarah, was summoning him with magic so pure and powerful it nearly appeared before him in threads and ribbons of gold and sapphire. If it was just so that he could tie her hair back, then the cosmos was mocking him because he had better things to do than play hairdresser for a toddler._

_Something in the back of his mind niggled at him, and he cursed._

_Toddler though she was, he was still intrigued. Whether she wanted it or not, she now had the sharp focus of a very shrewd King centered on her. 'Let's see what makes your little heart beat, shall we?' he thought while twirling a small crystal in one hand._

_For a brief moment he gave pause, realizing he had gone from avenging his people and defending his honor to spying on a child whose existence was a mere blip compared to his own. Yes, the Great Stars were truly mocking him, but…_

_He caught his young mortal's smile through a gazing crystal, and was instantly filled with peace and warmth._

… _it was worth it. For her. _

* * *

A/N: I figured now would be as good a time as any to get a glimpse into the mind of our beloved King. So here you are: an entire chapter of Jareth! Enjoy.

Where was everybody last chapter? I only got four reviews, which was kind of disheartening since I was particularly proud of that piece. Anyway, I don't hold it against you, I'm a lazy reviewer myself but please try to make the effort, it only takes a minute. Thanks.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came out of Labyrinth. I merely possess my own interpretation of the events and its characters, and a plot line that seems to like to weave itself.


	12. Jareth, Part Two

Chapter Twelve: Jareth, Part Two.

_He couldn't figure it out. She was an enchanting girl really. And she shouldn't have been. Not to him. He was Fae; _he_ enchanted mortals, not the other way around. He had gone four years between the first meeting and the second; now he found he could barely get through the day without having checked on her at least once. It had started purely out of curiosity. She was a riddle to him, something that he could sit in a quiet room to think about and try to unravel when he was bored. But he was bored all the time and so, many of his thoughts were devoted to her. Why were they connected? Hours were spent pondering the mystery. His frustration only grew when he could reach no answer. So he started checking on her more often. She was already consuming so much of his time, what were a few more hours? _

_Curiosity gave way to studying; perhaps if he knew as much about her as possible an answer would present itself. He created crystals with the sole purpose of watching Sarah, capturing scenes of her for him to play back as many times as necessary before he knew her well enough to draw conclusions. His patient calculating taught him many things: Sarah wrinkled her adorable little nose when she giggled, she liked lemon tea with almond biscuits, her best friend was a toad named Henry, she liked dressing dolls in brightly colored gowns, she wished that her hair had more curl than wave, she loved it when her mother hugged her, looking into mirrors sometimes frightened her, and…_

_Studying had given way to obsession._

_

* * *

She was seven now, and he was extremely aware that this was becoming an unhealthy hobby for him. He hadn't seen her in person since that day in the park three years ago, but there was no doubt that he knew her better than he knew himself. But still he had no answer to his riddle._

_The crystal in front of him floated gently on a pocket of air, bobbing occasionally with his tumultuous thoughts. The tiny little Sarah reflected inside the smooth globe was sitting on a swing at a playground. Alone. She always seemed to be alone, and it made him feel awful. Of course, when she was around other people it made him jealous, so either way he couldn't win but still, he felt that little girls should never have a lack of companionship. Especially not someone as utterly bewitching and delightful as his Sarah. _

_She heaved a mighty sigh and kicked at the ground dejectedly. For a moment she seemed close to tears, but then she began to speak. "Once upon a time there was a little girl, who was sweet and fair, but she never had anyone to play with and so she was often alone." Sarah kicked at the ground again, drawing swirls in the dirt beneath her swing. Then she perked as inspiration hit her, "She spent her afternoons dreaming of a far-off land where faeries and elves danced through ancient forests; a land where her Prince Charming lived, waiting to sweep her off her feet, to rescue her from her boredom and loneliness." She seemed to consider something, "No, not a prince. A king, a King of Goblins who would have the power and desire to make her happy no matter what."_

_It was the first time since he had learned to control his magic that he dropped a crystal by accident._

_He was the King of many things, the Lord and Master of all that was Underground, but because of the nature of his dealings with mortals, humans chose only to focus on one of his more negative titles. He had been proud of that in the past, knowing that it would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies; now he was worried. Sarah knew him, beyond all logic and possibility she had dreamt of a Goblin King. Him. Apparently their connection ran deeper than he had suspected. _

_How? How was this happening?_

_Another mysterious layer was added to the puzzle that was this young child. _

_

* * *

Shock had not prevented him from keeping tabs on her. If anything, it only made him watch her more often. She told the best stories and, despite what she had said on that swing a year ago, she had never mentioned a king again. These stories were different, happy; tales of danger and adventure, things to keep a young imagination occupied._

_But then came a day in her eighth year when he found her curled in the back of her closet, crying. His heart clenched and screamed for action, but she was already talking to herself. _

"… _and when the girl was sad because her parents didn't love each other anymore he made it rain so that she wouldn't have to cry alone, and he made the flowers grow so that when she was exhausted of being sad she would have something to smile about."_

_He gave her days when the wind howled, and thunder crashed, and rain came down as if it were the end of the world. The best foul mood companions that anyone could ask for. When she finally seemed to perk up he grew purple roses on the trellis underneath her window so that she could be calmed by their peaceful scent and white daisies in her backyard to weave spring crowns out of._

_She made it through that time easier than he did. His comfort was all around her, but he was never satisfied with what he gave; it could never be enough. He wanted to be there for her in person, to be able to wipe her tears away and make her smile instead of just sending bad weather and flowers. But it was what she had asked for, what she wanted, and so he had demurred and contented himself with the fact that she was appeased for now. _

_The fact that he wasn't didn't seem to matter._

_

* * *

For five years Sarah and her father lived in relative peace, but the King could see the strain that separation was putting on her. She had loved her mother dearly and had so little to remind her of the woman. Her father had had a tough time of it at first, but had found his luck once he had started courting again. He would have wished the man many happy years with his new Lady if it weren't for one thing: Sarah hated her. And who could blame her, really? She had had the undivided attention of her father for so long she wasn't used to having to share his time, and with another woman no less!_

_He could see the explosion coming a mile off. Her father had no intentions of letting another woman leave him. He was courting for marriage. But Sarah didn't want to believe that there was anyone as perfect for him as her mother, and so she held this newcomer in contempt. _

_She was thirteen when he felt the familiar pull of her summons. And _oh_, how he wanted to go to her, but until he figured out what was going on he had decided to keep his distance, lest he do something rash. He pulled one of his crystals from the air and found her with an ease that less than a century ago would have frightened him. Sarah was stomping through the woods behind her house, kicking rocks and snapping twigs._

"…_and when the girl was angry because her father was marrying the evilest woman in the entire world the Goblin King sent her a small puppy so that someone would always love her when he could not be there." He chose to ignore the fact that he never _was_ there. If he focused on it he would be forced to rectify the situation, and he had a feeling she wasn't old enough for that yet._

_So he created a puppy, a little mop of a dog, made of friendliness and affection; a companion for as long as she wanted him. She named him Merlin, after the great wizard, and for a while she was all smiles again._

_But it couldn't last for long. Married men and women had a zest for procreation._

_

* * *

Her next calling came a year later, and he had to admit he was surprised it hadn't come sooner. She was in her room this time, mangling an afghan blanket with her clenching and twirling hands._

"…_and when the girl was furious because her wicked stepmother was having a baby he promised to create a spell that would bring them together, and twist his land and build a mighty army so that no one could ever tear them apart." Perhaps she _was_ old enough for his companionship._

_He paused. Twist his land and build a mighty army? He had already done that! How could someone who didn't know him, know so much about him?_

_He had nothing to give her this time and he growled in annoyance. She asked for him, and he simply couldn't do it. This was a dangerous game she was starting to play. She had no idea what she was asking for. Fae were not widely known for their compassion; if she persisted in her wishes for him, he would have no choice but to relent eventually. And he was no saint; she would have to take him, darkness and all. _

_His little Sarah didn't have an inkling what she was setting into motion._

_

* * *

He watched her suffer through the first few months after her half-brother was born. She couldn't adapt; she hadn't even accepted the presence of her step-mother yet, there was no way she could grow accustomed to the baby. Her temper ran high and he found himself constantly frustrated thanks to their link. He was restless, didn't know what to do to make things better for her._

_But he didn't have to pace for too long; as usual his clever little girl gave the answer right to him. "…and when the girl was enraged because her little brother was a spoiled brat and no one paid attention to her anymore, the doting King gave her _The Words_." Who was he to argue when, for the second time in only a few months, she asked for _him?

_So he gave her The Words; words that had struck such fear in her people they had once been outlawed by penalty of death. He put them into a book, gave her both the good and the bad and waited to see what she would think of her Goblin King now. He could only hope she would say the one thing that could bring her to him…_

_He was anxious to see her again._

* * *

A/N: Woo! Longest chapter yet! (Only by about 100 words, but still...) Another chapter of Jareth! Sorry that we seem to have deviated from the main plot here, but what happens in the future won't have as much of an impact if we don't understand Jareth's motives. There should only be one more chapter of back story (and I'm thinking of doing it in such a way that we get to see our Sarah as well, lead the past story into the present story), and then we get back on track.

Thank you ever so much for your reviews; please leave another! And don't hesitate to leave suggestions or ask questions if you have any. (If you have asked questions in the past and I have not responded, it's because I intend to explain that further along in the story.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Labyrinth, merely the brain that brings you this interpretation. No harm is meant, and no money is being made.


	13. Two Sides to Every Coin

Chapter Thirteen: Two Sides to Every Coin.

Up until this point Sarah could have written the whole thing off as a series of _very_ realistic hallucinations based off a dream she had had years ago. The bruises would have been hard to explain, but it was possible.

A tattoo, however, was not.

The reality of the situation was quickly becoming an _un_reality, and _she_ was becoming undone. It had been easy to believe everything was real while it was happening and then brush it aside once she was awake; she could handle the duality of the situation as long as they were kept separately. But with one intricately designed tattoo and an hourglass the worlds were starting to bleed together. For so long Sarah had wished for something beyond the life she was living, now that she was getting it she wasn't sure she could handle it.

Thirteen hours. With _him_.

She had been a fanciful little girl (was now a fanciful young woman if she allowed herself to be honest) and had dreamed of many things. The days had been long and lonely so she had filled them with magic and wonder, perhaps more so than other children, but that was the fun of being young and carefree, right? Her stories had usually involved elves and ran a plot that sounded suspiciously like Robin Hood; but when things went wrong, when she had been angry or hurt, she had always taken refuge in tales that involved her being swept away by mysterious princes that would care for her.

Jareth made her uneasy because he was beyond anything she had ever dreamt. The Labyrinth had been everything she had expected, but the Goblin King himself had been a wild card. He was elusive and unpredictable, shrewd and conniving, and she hadn't expected to respond to him in the way that she had. It wasn't just that he was attractive ('beautiful, devilishly appealing' her brain added without her consent) but it was like he had been the culmination of everything she had ever imagined. As though every dream had been carefully inspected for the best details possible and then put together to form one single man. And it was frightening to have everything she'd ever wanted in one package. He had been dangerous, a wild beast whose motivations and actions were completely unfathomable.

He still was.

_Why_ did he want thirteen hours from her?

Sarah had been prepared to stay awake all night, but quickly found that while her mind was in agreement, her body was not. Weariness swept over her limbs and her eyes refused to stay open. With a defeated sigh she climbed back into her bed and sent out a quiet prayer for a reprieve from the Goblin King.

Her prayer was only half answered.

* * *

He stood proud and menacing, drenched in the darkest of blacks. Magic swirled and glittered in the air around him, much the same way that his cloak swirled in the breeze coming from the open doors at his back. His face was angular but delicate, with a mouth twisted into a smirk, a narrow nose, mesmerizing eyes, and eyebrows that swooped above pale colors that didn't look like any makeup Sarah had ever seen. He titled his head to the side, and his golden-silver hair became accentuated by the shear darkness of the collar it was now draping over. 

It was certainly Jareth, but not in person, merely a memory. Sarah studied the scene as she had not been able to when it was actually happening.

She hadn't realized how piteous she had sounded. How cowed and trembling she'd been at first. How completely unaffected she'd been by his other-worldliness until he'd stepped so very close to her on that orange-sand hill. The fifteen year old gave a jump when his voice suddenly spoke in her ear, and Sarah knew from that point on she had not only been fighting him, but her attraction for him as well.

_

* * *

She had instantly become obsessed with his book. It had so closely mirrored some of her own stories that it would have been nearly impossible for her not to like it. But she hadn't called for him yet, and so he waited. But he was not known to be a patient man and so he had begun to follow her in the form of his familiar, a swift and silent predator of the night, a noble white owl. She read and acted and played but never said the words that were most important, and it was beginning to drive him mad. _

_Studying Sarah from afar had not given him any useful insights about their connection; it had merely made him crave her companionship. When she had directly asked for him the first time he had been willing to ignore it. She was simply a young girl who had been left alone a few times too often. The second time had been too much. He wanted her near, and he was not strong enough to deny her wishes a second time. Perhaps they were bonded by a mutual desire to ease their loneliness? _

_It took Sarah a few months, but she finally said something. "Someone take me _away_ from this awful place!" she had shouted melodramatically while clutching a stuffed bear to her chest. They weren't exactly The Words, but he had already waited too long, so they were close enough. _

_But she had moved on already, angrily telling one of her stories to her brother. And then, after the most painfully long few months of his life, she finally, _FINALLY_, said The Words._

_But not for herself. _

_Months of careful planning, calculating, watching, longing, and she wasted The Words on a sniveling baby! He could have thrashed her pretty hide. What the hell did he need her brother for?! He had not just spent the last decade and a half watching this girl so that he could dole out another tedious bit of his revenge against the humans. _

_In the back of his mind, in the dark recess that was always in tune with his Labyrinth, the very part that had conceived of that nightmarish twisting of corridors and reality, a plan began to form. Perhaps this was not a total loss; after all Sarah would still have to come to his kingdom in order try and win back her brother. _

_

* * *

Their first meeting after so many years had gone oddly. From the beginning he had set himself up as the villain, but she _had_ to understand that he was just as dangerous as he could be loving. Her terror had aggravated him, but she had quickly discovered her spine of steel and he couldn't have been more thrilled. _

_But something was off._

_Sarah never once questioned how he already knew her name and she never seemed to make the connection between the Goblin King she had cried out to as a child and the man who stood before her. It was as though the girl had selective memory failure._

_He wouldn't be deterred however. She was running through his domain now, and he was determined to keep her there._

* * *

The pressing darkness of the oubliette had been terrifying, but she would have gladly turned back around if she had known that _he_ was only a few paces ahead of her. Sarah frowned as she watched her younger self ambling forward. Of course, she knew, it wasn't true. As much as she loved to hate Jareth, she had enjoyed bantering with him; being able to clash on an intellectual level had been exciting. 

She hated herself for it, but as he stood there threatening Hoggle she felt a small thrill go down her spine. It only increased when he turned his attention on the other Sarah. His stride was a lazy stalking, something she hadn't noticed before. He used one arm to lean against the tunnel wall (pulling that fabulous leather jacket and white lawn shirt taut over his chest) and towered over the girl. When she had been in that position she had thought he merely meant to intimidate her with his height, but he was too close, leaning too casually, and there was something dangerous in the quiet energy that surrounded him.

"And you Sarah. How are you enjoying my Labyrinth?" The words were the same, but the inflections sounded wrong. It was still quiet and mocking, but also low and… husky? He hadn't said it like that, had he?

But her response was still the same. If the other her had noticed, she did a wonderful job of hiding it. His own response was slightly different than she had remembered it, a mocking subtraction of hours and angrily sending the cleaners after her. The actions remained but he seemed more elated than mocking and more gleeful than angry. Could she have really misjudged the situation so much?

_

* * *

He had hoped that the oubliette would be the end of her wanderings, but he hadn't counted on her ability to charm aid out of the dwarf. It seemed he was doomed to see all thirteen hours come to a close before he could have his Sarah. _

_But there wasn't enough patience left in him for that. He had waited long enough already, there had to be some way to turn the situation to his advantage. There always was, of course; it was his kingdom, therefore he made the rules._

"_It's a piece of cake," she had announced arrogantly. He should have been chagrined, mortals three times her age had found his Labyrinth to be an insurmountable challenge, but instead he was filled with pride. His girl was a spitfire, and not to be taken lightly. She couldn't navigate with anywhere near the ease that he possessed, but it delighted him to know that Sarah was closer to him than any who had come before her, a cut _above_ all those bumbling humans. _

_He responded with the very reason he had arranged this visit in the first place; he wound his clock forward, speeding through several hours of her time. Impatience was not his sole motivator. There had been others that had gotten this far before, but none he was so intent on keeping, and none with so much ease. Granted it had taken her several hours, but she seemed to waltz through his challenges with immunity and it made him uneasy. _

"_That's not fair!" she shouted, outraged. No, it wasn't, but playing fair didn't win the game. The Goblin King was playing for keeps, and nothing as silly as _fairness_ was going to stand in his way. _

_The cleaners had been a spur of the moment decision, but he had wanted to see how she would rise to the challenge; the locked passageway had just been for kicks. No harm would have come to her, and if she managed to find a way passed the whirling menagerie of blades, then at the very least she would have been lead away from the shortest path. _

* * *

The fifteen year old was dressed in a tight bodice (with ridiculously poofy sleeves, she realized with distaste) fitted over sparkling white skirts that billowed gently down to the ground. Her hair was pulled away from her face and set into loose curls that twisted through two silver clasps. She wandered in and out of the dancers in the ballroom. She looked lost, Sarah decided. Lost, alone, and much too young to be there. A child thrown into an adult world that she was not ready for. The other dancers were dressed in dark and gruesome attire that seemed to reflect their general depravity, but she flitted about, a brief flash of blinding innocence looking for something elusive. 

And then he was there, dancing with her. Dressed in a regal outfit that looked as though he had made it from the night sky, blue velvet studded with magic and precious jewels. His hair was streaked with blue to match his clothing and his skin practically glowed with power. Jareth was in his element, looking every inch the elegant King.

Sarah watched him twirl her about the dance floor. She had learned to waltz in those arms, she realized. It was terrifying to remember how close he had been to winning at this very point, how close she had been to forgetting everything. But god, his words had been so haunting, so _romantic_! It had spun her head.

If it hadn't been for that clock announcing the twelfth hour she had a feeling that she never would have broken away from his embrace.

_

* * *

He could admit that he had acted out of jealousy, but the dwarf had spent more time with Sarah than he had. Even received a kiss from those lovely rose lips of hers! The peach had only been intended as a distraction but that kiss had sent something angry coursing through him. It shouldn't have been the dwarf! Her affections were meant for him, he just had to make her realize that. So he set up the ball, fueled by her dreams of Princes and images of her music box. _

_But it hadn't turned out quite right. He was so used to twisting things that the occupants of the party had a decidedly darker edge than he had intended. Still, it wasn't _too_ far off._

_He watched her meander up and down the great steps, drinking in the sight of her. Somewhat childish, he decided, he certainly would have gone with something a little darker, a little more revealing, but still she was a vision of beauty to him. He evaded her for a while, trying to entice her, heighten her excitement. But she looked so lovely and lost that he couldn't keep himself away for too long._

_His words had been soft and enchanting, a plea for her to see the tender side of him. He could treat her like the most beloved of treasures if she would let him. The King had twirled her around the great room, singing words of endless devotion, but she didn't seem to understand. Oh she heard the words, and undoubtedly she thought them romantic, but she didn't seem to know that he was singing to her. For her. And not just an overplayed ballad or an over recited sonnet, but words that came from deep within. From his heart. Only for her. _

_But she hadn't known how to react and was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Her eyes locked with his own for a moment, and he could see her confusion and her fear. He didn't want to believe that she wasn't ready for this yet, not when she was so close, but looking back at him were the haunted eyes of a child who was seeing too much too soon. That was the very reason why, when she managed to tear herself away from him, he let her go._

* * *

Out of everything that had happened to her in the Labyrinth it was still her final confrontation with Jareth that unnerved Sarah the most. She had been so desperate, fighting not only the clock but the Escher Room's very design that seemed to keep Toby always away from her. As he crawled across ceilings she ran down walls, then he was on the floor but she on the other wall now, always on a plane that didn't connect close enough to his own. 

And watching it all was Jareth, striding over upside-down staircases and leaning against doorways. The hair on the back of Sarah's neck stood on end listening to his haunting melody. She only vaguely recalled him having said anything at all. Certainly not this. _This_ was an unholy combination of love song and mourning dirge. It was beautifully frightening.

But the words… Had he really said that?

And suddenly it all made sense. She had never understood his final lines to her; it hadn't seemed like something her villain should have said. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave," he had pleaded, and if she hadn't been trying to remember her own lines she would have been bewildered. What reason did he have to ask for her love? It all fit together now: his closeness, the tone of voice he had used, the ways he had tried to serenade her, and how he had offered her her dreams. The things that had confused her tonight, things that she remembered slightly different, had happened; she just hadn't noticed it the first time around, because she was only fifteen. She couldn't understand what he was asking of her because she had never felt anything like it before.

What reason did he have to ask for her love? Because she already had his.

But the fifteen year old Sarah Williams plowed on heedlessly. She boldly said the words that would ensure her victory against the nefarious villain. She now realized that it wasn't a triumph of good over evil, but a young girl ripping out the heart of a man. His final expression was filled with such heartache, such longing, that her own heart clenched in sympathy. She had done this to him, without even a second thought, and without realizing she held his affections, she had defeated him with softly spoken cruelty.

"You have no power over me."

_

* * *

She hadn't understood any of it, he realized with subdued horror. It had just been a game, another story for her to be the champion of. Sarah either thought very little of his feelings or had never picked up on them at all. Such cruelty he had suffered at her hands, not only loosing at his own game, but having his heart flung back at him as though it were a trifle. _

_He had seen her home, had to make sure she made it back safely, and had stayed just long enough to be certain her parents had come back from their evening out. Now, he was lying on the wrecked floor (or perhaps it was a wall?) of the Escher Room and trying to figure out when exactly things had gone wrong._

_Perhaps he had fallen into the role of the villain too well, but he had never pretended to be anything he was not. Or perhaps she had come to the misguided conclusion that his affections were not genuine, merely a trick to distract her._

_He paused. _

_That was just it, wasn't it? Sarah hadn't realized that it was never about the baby. He slapped a hand over his face in frustration. And why would she have? He had never given her any reason to think he had absolutely no interest in the wailing Toby. A sigh burst out from between his lips, and he moved the hand from over his eyes to run through his wild hair. He had made a mess of things, he realized, utterly screwed them up. The situation was hardly salvageable. _

_But he would try._

_If nothing else, Jareth was a persistent king. All he needed was a plan._

* * *

A/N: Wow, this chapter is just over 6 pages! That's about twice as long as usual. So what did you think? I always thought of Jareth making Sarah run the Labyrinth as the immortal equivalent of a little boy pulling on his crush's braid. I hope you liked this chapter, so many people rewrite events from the movie that it gets tedious after a while; I tried to keep things moving along while still being insightful. 

Much obliged if you would review. I can't improve if I don't get feedback. Many thanks to those who have left their comments, and an extra special thank you to MaitressedeSeine for her concern over the welfare of my persnickety laptop, and EranaRose who always says the most insightful things.

Disclaimer: If I owned anything, this would be a sequel not a fanfic.


	14. The Next Morning

Chapter Fourteen: The Next Morning.

For the first time in several days, Sarah did not jolt out of bed upon awakening. She simply laid there, swaddled in heavily wrinkled blankets, contemplating.

On an instinctual level she had known that spending any amount of time with Jareth would be hard; he made her uneasy and she was never sure what to expect from him. Now she knew it would be even more difficult. The man loved her! Or, at least, he had. And that was the problem, wasn't it? She had learned so much about the haughty Goblin King, but still knew nothing about Jareth. It was entirely possible that he no longer felt anything for her at all, and no one could blame him after she had so blindly ripped his heart out. Had his love turned into hate? Passion was so forthcoming in both emotions; it would not be hard to make the transition from one to the other.

'Musing,' she realized, 'is not helping.' Either way, she would not know how to act around him. Sarah rolled over, further tangling herself in the sheets.

She felt awful.

In the course of her nineteen years she had dealt with the messy business of rejecting advances from boys who had crushes on her, but that was something small. They had been asking for afternoons together, time to decide if they enjoyed her company as much as they did her looks. It wasn't about love; hell, it was hardly even about like!

But someone had _loved_ her. How often did that truly happen in one lifetime? And she hadn't even been polite in her rejection because she hadn't realized what he was offering. He had spoken of devotion, of eternity, and she couldn't have understood because all she had known was fleeting interests and frequent breakups. How painful it must have been for him, to have so much power at his command and yet be so powerless to keep the one thing he wanted. Briefly Sarah thought of the ballroom; he had been so sweet then.

Now she felt terrible.

There had to be a way to make amends. "Yeah," she snorted to herself, "I'll just go up to him and apologize. 'Wow Jareth, I'm sorry that I never realized you were head over heels for me, but I was a whiny little snot who was completely oblivious. I get it _now_, though. So, would you like to go to the mall together sometime?' God, I'm such an idiot!"

"But a delightful idiot, nonetheless," Jareth's voice purred out from the foot of her bed. Leaning casually against her tiny little footboard was the King himself, looking decidedly displaced. He was simply clothed in a frock-style shirt (something new for him, she realized; most of his shirts had been open-chested until damn well near the man's waist), a pair of sinfully tight black breeches (but then, they were all sinfully tight, weren't they?), and a pair of black boots. Even in such plain garb he looked like royalty. The rest of the room didn't match him (and that was simply the way it had to be said; it wouldn't do to say that the _King_ didn't match the _room_). For a moment Sarah wondered why her thoughts were defending his position in her world, then quickly tried to burrow under her twisted sheets to hide the skimpy tank top she wore from his questing gaze.

She shifted uneasily. "What are you doing here?"

He gave her a bemused look and pointed at the hourglass sitting quietly on her vanity table. "Have you forgotten so soon?" A few powdery crystals of fine black sand gently fell through to thicken the dusting in the bottom bulb.

"You're in my room," Sarah panicked, eyes widening.

Jareth raised an elegant brow. "It would seem so, yes."

"No, no. You don't get it. You can't be here!" She cast wary eyes around the room, looking hunted.

He frowned for a moment. "It's well within my rights Sarah. Anytime, anywhere; that was the deal." He cocked his head to the side, causing the shimmering fabric pinned at his throat to ripple slightly.

"Yes, but it's," she cast a quick glance at her clock, "8 in the morning, and you are _in my bedroom_. What if my Dad comes in, or Karen? This could get me into a lot of trouble! And couldn't you have waited until I was decent before you decided to harass me?!"

He laughed. "Afraid someone will jump to conclusions?" he let out another chuckle at her expense. "You needn't worry; you're the only one who can see me right now. And as for you current state of… dress," his eyes raked over what little she hadn't been able to cover, blazing briefly when they landed on the tattoo, "well, it's simply a hazard of our agreement."

She gritted her teeth. "What do you want?" she asked lowly.

"Ah," he shook a velvet covered finger at her playfully, "now _that_ would be telling." His laughter rang out, loud and clear, but Jareth had already vanished in a burst icy magic.

Sarah shivered. 'Well,' she decided, 'that was pointless. It seems his Royal Majesty is in a petty mood this morning, intent on simply being a nuisance.' She got out of bed and quickly pulled out some clothes from her dresser. For a moment she paused. He was gone but he could come back, and she had no desire to show him any more 'hazards of the agreement'. True, he could probably show up in the bathroom just as easily as he had in her bedroom, but it made her feel a _little_ safer.

Now fully dressed in jeans and a sweater, Sarah went down the stairs two at a time. She wasn't usually a breakfast person but she hadn't eaten so well the night before, and subsequently found herself starving. As she expected, Toby was sitting at the kitchen table, nearly asleep in his bowl of cereal, and Karen was bustling about cleaning something that was probably already spotless.

"Good morning," the older woman said without turning around.

"G'morning," Sarah returned stiffly. They were still adversaries of sorts, though their actions towards each other bespoke more of routine than any actual malice. She had tried to get along with the woman, but it seemed that they were just too different. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she reached across the table for the cereal box.

"Sarah?" This time Karen did turn around.

She was hit with an immense sense of dread. "Yeah?"

Her Stepmother fixed her with a confused look. "Who was that laughing a minute ago?"

_

* * *

He was shameless, he could admit, but the few hours of sleep that he had granted Sarah had been torturous for him. Chivalry demanded that he apologize for taking her by such surprise, but… Well, he had just enjoyed seeing her in that small blue shirt too much. Now she was dressed in faded jeans and a red and white sweater, and he was lamenting the loss of her cream colored skin. Such beauty should not be covered by baggy clothing!_

_Poor Sarah had her mouth hanging open in the most adorably confused expression. It seemed she was realizing that just because no one could see him didn't mean they couldn't hear him. _

_His intentions were not to drive her insane, merely to keep her as unbalanced as he had felt over the past few years. By night he would be tender, compassionate, giving; he would romance her, going to whatever extreme he had to, to secure her heart. But by day he would be a delightful (in his opinion) nuisance; King though he was, he was not above mischief. He was going to have his fun tormenting her. Jareth hadn't been completely honest when he had told her that this arrangement was not about revenge. During the night it had _nothing_ to do with revenge, but in the day he would allow himself to be petty and take what little he could. It was simply in his nature to be devious as well as loving. _

_Sarah closed her mouth and clenched her jaw nervously. "I, uh… must have left my radio on when I went into the bathroom," she managed to lie without stuttering. He wondered if she would always be able to cover his presence with flimsy excuses. Jareth frowned, but then quickly brightened. 'I'll just have to make myself a bit more obvious then.' It would be interesting to see how she would react to being backed into a corner. He had no intension of keeping her family in the dark. Of course, he wouldn't tell them outright what was going on (they would never believe him anyway), but he was going to make certain they knew that Sarah had a male caller. _

'_I'll have to pace myself,' he realized. Thirteen hours wasn't really all that long when you thought about it. Of course, he smirked, thirteen hours of her time didn't quite equate to thirteen hours of his. Dear Sarah was just going to have to figure that out the hard way._

* * *

'That rotten little cheat!' Sarah fumed. It brought no relief so she tried again. 'That dirty, no-good JERK!' Nope, she was still angry. Karen watched her suspiciously as she continued to mutilate the cereal in her bowl. Obviously the older woman hadn't believed her fib. 'Yeah,' she thought darkly, 'like I'm hiding some guy in my room, Karen.' She chose to ignore the fact that, _technically_, she had been doing just that. Angrily, she started shredding her toast into little strips.

It seemed Jareth was intending to get the most out his time. How could someone who was probably hundreds, if not _thousands_, of years old, someone who was nobility and a magical king, be so childish? Next thing you knew he was going to start moving her furniture around just to mess with her mind.

Sarah shook her head. 'No,' she thought, 'I can't let myself believe that.' While it was true that his Highness seemed to have developed a playful streak a mile wide, it didn't change the fact that underneath that foppish exterior was a dangerous man. He was just trying to distract her; whatever he had planned was big, and Sarah had no intension to follow him into it blindly. Let him have his stupid fun, but when it came time for the real fight she would be ready.

'But will you be able to resist him, knowing now that he loved you?' a small part of her whispered. Her fingers paused their destructive work. Whether she had wanted it to happen or not, this morning's revelation had changed her view of Jareth. Before, he had been something wild and pretty, something she could gawk at but never have. Now that she was older and could see the Labyrinth from a different angle, a new awareness had filled her. Jareth was man, or rather male, seeing as he wasn't human. He was still beautiful and deadly, but he was no longer unattainable. And that, unfortunately, worked in his favor. It was easy to defeat an enemy that wouldn't fight with their full strength because they were blinded by love.

Sarah groaned. She wasn't really sure how she felt about Jareth yet. Her emotions were just too conflicting where he was concerned. The days ahead of her were going to be hard, she realized. Without knowing what game he was playing, she was just going to have to do her best to stay emotionally distant from him. If she didn't allow feelings to develop, then he couldn't play the romance card in order to win whatever it was he was playing at.

Karen gave her another calculating glance. "So, does this radio of yours' have a name?"

The spoon in Sarah's hand clattered against her bowl and the coffee cup she had been reaching for was now merrily rolling off the end of the table, sloshing hot liquid over the newspaper, before it shattered on the tile floor.

* * *

A/N: I didn't want to end it there, but it's been a while since the last update, so I'll give you guys what I've got for now.

I must apologize twice for this chapter. First: I'm sorry for the delay. My computer _refused_ to start up, but thankfully, through the collaborative efforts of me and my father, we managed to get it fixed without loosing any data. This was then further exacerbated by lack of internet connect (when it rains, it pours). Then, of course, my newly repaired laptop DIED (thankfully not before I could make backups of all my writings), and the other computer I use lost its' internet connection. Second: I realize that this is a break in the mood I've been building (but we are starting to head into the essential plot here). I wasn't quite pleased with the way this chapter started, and the second half was written after/during the stress mentioned in apology one. Needless to say I sort of lost my momentum, so if this chapter seems kinda divided it's because it was written in two completely different time frames.

Truly, you are all wonderful! I don't think I've every received so much praise in my life. Still, I ask that you ever be on the lookout for problems or areas that could stand for improvement. Another extra special thank you to EranaRose and MaitressedeSeine, for their wonderful input and support.

Please Review!!

Disclaimer: I'm just trying to have a spot of fun. That's all. I own nothing.


	15. A Day Apart

Chapter Fifteen: A Day Apart.

"_So, does this radio of yours have a name?"_

_Jareth wanted to laugh, and if he hadn't been surrounded by courtiers he would have. It seemed as though Sarah's pathetic lie was as transparent to the not-quite-evil-stepmother as it had been to him. He let out a gleeful snigger._

_The young lord to his left eyed him curiously. "Your Majesty?" he questioned quietly._

_Jareth shook his head and let out a sigh. He detested the laws that dictated when The Court had to be in session. Mostly the nobles just irritated him, but it was occasionally refreshing to see old friends, and he certainly didn't want his kingdom to fall into disrepair. Without The Court it would be nearly impossible for him to know what was going right and what was going wrong. While it was true that _nothing_ in the Labyrinth escaped his notice, it was not possible to keep an eye on the entire Underground without assistance. He merely wished that he could have more control over the time in which they convened but, of course, it was a tradition started by his father, whom he had no wish to disrespect by changing the law. So, Jareth currently found himself residing within his castle at K'shent Mier, presiding over a court of beings who were older than the Roman Empire and still squabbled like children, when he would rather be helping Sarah get into more trouble._

_The young lord tried moving subtly so that he could see whatever was reflected in his King's crystal. Jareth gave Sarah one last longing glance before voiding the image, knowing that he would have to retrieve the tail-end of that conversation when he was alone. His courtier had enough decency to look slightly embarrassed, though mostly curious. While it was perfectly alright for rumors to spread in Sarah's world, the last thing he needed was anyone to know he was showing interest in a female. He had only just gotten the advisory council to stop hounding him about taking a wife; he did not need them interfering with the plans for his delightful little mortal. Things had ended badly last time because he had been rushed, but Jareth was not about to make the same mistake twice. He would rather deal with The Court's anger at not knowing he was pursuing his intended until there was a Queen, rather than loose Sarah again; somehow he knew that a second time would strip him of all sanity._

_The Lords and Ladies continued to argue, and he began to wonder if there was any difference between presiding over the Fae or the goblins. At least his human Prince had had the decency to show up this time, he noted dully. Jareth slumped in his seat and summoned a glass of wine, knowing that the rest of the day was going to be miserable at best. Night could not descend fast enough, he thought agitatedly._

* * *

Sarah would have bet anything in her possession that her eyes were nearly popping out of her skull. "There isn't-… I'm not-" she stuttered out in near panic; the last thing she needed was her stepmother thinking she had a secret boyfriend. Realizing that her babbling was not helping her case (though it was making the older woman look oddly self-righteous), she straightened and began, "Karen, you don't _honestly_ believe-" but her stepmother cut her off with a wave of her hand. Obviously, she _did_ believe. 

Toby was sniggering into his breakfast like it was the funniest thing in the world, and Karen had leaned against the counter to fix her with the weirdest combination of approval and slight dismay. "Sarah, at your age, I'd be worried if you _weren't_ dating," the older woman began, "but don't you think your father and I should meet the young man before you start bringing him into the house?" Sarah tried to protest once more, but Karen would have none of it, "I know at your age it's all about the romance and the adventure, and I understand that you're probably looking for a little danger to keep things exciting. Honestly, I'm happy that you've found someone you like to spend time with, but I really don't think it proper, or _decent_, for you to be alone in your room with a boy that no one has even met." She fixed the girl with such a look of giddy maternal pride that Sarah could barely find it within herself to argue.

_Finally_ Karen was opening up to her, was proud of something that she had done, and she couldn't take credit because it was a lie. 'Damn you Jareth,' Sarah thought. 'If I take advantage of the situation I know you'll find a way to turn things against me; but if I don't …'

Karen was actually _smiling_ at her.

'Damn you Jareth.'

_

* * *

The meetings had dragged on at a painfully slow rate and nothing had been accomplished. 'At this rate,' Jareth growled to himself, 'Imperial Court will be in session for the next decade!' They hadn't even gotten passed land squabbles and boarder skirmishes yet, to say _nothing_ of _actual_ grievances. He didn't have time for this sort of stupidity! Under normal circumstances ruling his kingdom would take priority over everything else; but then, when had anything involving Sarah been normal? He was under time constraints in concerns to her. Granted, their agreement allowed him to spend her time at his leisure, but he didn't want to give her breaks from his presence or any time in which to think things over too much. If his little human was given too much time to herself she would no doubt jump to all the wrong conclusions, _again 

_Jareth heaved a sigh and entered his suite. Night had finally settled over the Underground, but it would still be a while before he could go to Sarah. With another sigh he settled himself into one of the plush chairs scattered around his sitting room, slumping deep into the velvet cushions and throwing a leg over one armrest. The problem with being in K'shent Mier was that the meetings bored you to death, but when they were done for the day there was nothing else to do. Boredom ate at you no matter what, and until the sun fell in the mortal realm he could not occupy himself with his Lady. A sudden thought struck him and he perked up. He could do the next best thing._

_Quickly he summoned the crystal he had been toying with earlier that day. With any luck Sarah's stepmother had given her a hard time._

_

* * *

He couldn't believe his luck. _

_The crystal lay blank and shining in his palm, and Jareth gazed into it absently while thinking upon the conversation that he had just heard._

_It was simply too good to be true._

_A wicked smile bloomed over his features. It was perfect, absolutely perfect! _

_The Karen-creature believed his Sarah was being courted, which meant two things: one, he was definitely making his presence felt, and two, his girl was in a wonderful dilemma. If she wanted the continued approval of her stepmother then she had to carry on with the 'illusion' that she had a suitor. Of course, she had no mortal boy, but he would be more than happy to help her convince her parents she was having a spot of romance... For a price. _

_But those particulars could wait until tomorrow, for tonight he had something else planned._

* * *

Sarah threw herself upon her bed, landing in a boneless heap near the pillow. "What a rotten day," she groused into the comforter. Karen had not let up one bit, was constantly asking questions that she had no answers to, and refused to believe her when she tried denying the existence of her 'boyfriend'. The more she argued, the more her stepmother gushed. Right now she wanted to do nothing more than scream into her pillow but couldn't bring herself to move from her fetal position. 

'I'm going to strangle Jareth next time I see him,' Sarah thought detachedly. He had never said anything about involving other people in this whole snafu when he had listed his terms. 'Of course,' she realized slowly, 'he didn't really say much about the particulars of what I was agreeing to… probably should have read that contract.'

She bolted upright.

'Oh god, I didn't read the contract! I have no _idea_ what I signed over to him. And he's Fae, no less; they have a long history of playing nasty tricks on people! Who knows what I've gotten myself into?!' She glanced over at the hourglass, confirming the small amount of time that had passed; hopefully Jareth would honor his part of the agreement and leave her alone after the time finally ran out. It was weird, she thought, to see the top bulb of the device so full with sand, and yet none falling through to the bottom unless they were together.

Sarah began to pace in agitation, absently rubbing a hand over her sleeve-covered tattoo. That was another thing she could strangle the Goblin King for. Luckily it was winter, so no one would be overly suspicious if she wore long sleeved shirts all the time. Still, she hated feeling paranoid about whether there was even the slightest chance anyone could see it.

Sitting at the window, Sarah watched the sun set. It was weird, she thought as the golden rays bled crimson and orange, how untroubled she'd been just a few days ago. Things were so complicated now. Why couldn't Jareth stay in the dreams? The man hadn't even been in her room for five minutes, and already she was in a world of trouble. It was odd how in his world, where she was at every disadvantage, she found it easier to deal with him. But in her world, where she should have felt more at ease, more confident, it became so much harder to understand him.

Shaking her head, Sarah wedged herself onto the tiny little window seat and decided to watch the stars come out. And if her stepmother thought she was hiding out of mortification at being caught, well let her. It wasn't as if she was that far from the truth.

* * *

A/N: Didn't mean to end it there; next chapter features the beginning of Jareth's nighttime plans! People really seem to like my Jareth, which I'm thrilled about but also worried. I'll warn you now: this story isn't called Dramatic Orchestrations for nothing. Now, I've already mentioned that I have this thing divided up into 4 or 5 pieces, and we've barely even gotten through the first, so you've got a lot of time a head of you. There is romance ahead, mornings of gold and Valentine evenings, but there's also a nasty storm brewing so don't get terribly complacent. Don't worry, either, I won't make any unexplainable jumps in personality, I promise. Just be wary; much like our beloved King, I too am out to get you. 

Happy (belated) New Years everybody! My laptop is still out of commission at this time, and Spring Semester starts in two days, so there may be longer periods between updates (though I'm only taking five classes, two of which are art, so I don't think I'll have to cut any writing time out for studying).

I know alerts and emails were not being sent out like normal, so I suppose that's why I didn't get much of a response. It was really weird too, because I only got a handful of reviews but they were all singing my praises. Talk about conflicting signals. Anyway, thank you to MaitressedeSeine for her wonderful comments about my characterization (you have no idea how much I obsess over whether or not I think I'm doing things right) and Xaviere Jade who also put my worries to rest about character interaction (I'm going to have WAY too much fun with the thirteen hours).

Please Review! (Sorry for the uber long author's note!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	16. Beyond the Goblin King

Chapter Sixteen: Beyond the Goblin King.

_Sarah had fallen asleep at her window seat. She was rather adorable with her arms curled around her knees and her side pressed up against the cold glass. 'How small she looks,' Jareth thought while absently brushing his hand over her cheek. Moonlight spilled through the pane of glass and bathed her in a silvery glow, making her look, despite her clothing, just as ethereal as he was. Something within his chest tightened and roared to life. He had felt this before, when he had seen her for the first time as a babe. It was an overwhelming need to protect, to possess, to know that she was safely encased within his powers where no harm could come to her. _

_But at what cost?_

_Jareth was well aware that to romance her was dangerous. He would not be able to stop until he had secured her affections; he knew that in the last 19 years she had become a terrible addiction, and to continue watching her from afar was no longer an option, not if he valued his sanity. But there would be problems with taking her Underground. _

_She had to submit to him willingly; for now, her cooperation was assured through her debt. After that he would not be able bring her to his kingdom unless she allowed it. Sarah was a stubborn creature, she would fight him at every turn. Jareth's eyes narrowed on her face, realizing that he would have to be as persuasive as possible to convince her to leave her friends and family. He was not totally heartless, she would be allowed to visit them, but it would be a large concession on her part nonetheless. _

_Another problem was her inherent mortality. Continuous exposure to the magic within his realm would change her, but he wasn't exactly sure how such a thing would manifest. She had a great deal of latent power, as proven by her constant summons of him; the power of his realm would latch onto her and rapidly coax more of that magic to the surface, but there was no guarantee that it would have any effect on her lifespan. With some studying it was possible that he could sustain her life indefinitely, especially with his hold over time itself, but that was an option that would have to be looked into after he was able to see what changes were wrought in her. The real danger was in the fact that all manifestations would develop quickly and permanently. If Sarah refused to enter his kingdom after her thirteen hours had been spent, she would soon fall ill and wither without any magic to support her new nature. And letting her die was not an option; he would breech whatever code he had to, break whatever laws stood in his way, even kill if it was necessary, because nothing was going to stand between them if her life was in jeopardy, not even Sarah herself. _

"_You do such terrible things to me, my dear," he murmured while watching her shift in her sleep. "Such violent emotions have not been brought out in me since the creation of my Labyrinth. Why do you torment me Sarah? Why am I the one you try to summon?" Her shoulders twitched, as if to shrug at his questions. "No, I doubt you know either. I've watched you your whole life and cannot answer those questions. You confound me, and yet I remain bewitched. A mortal should not be able to enchant a Fae King, dear one. What is this secret wish of yours that only I can grant?" he whispered fiercely, keeping narrowed eyes on a face that was beginning to show signs of waking up._

* * *

Sarah cursed herself for falling asleep in such an awful position; her neck was stiff and she groaned when she tried to work the knot out. Whatever had woken her, she was grateful to. She didn't even want to imagine how sore she would have been after sleeping there for a whole night. Lazily, Sarah opened her eyes. Her little seat was caught in a pool of starlight, so the room beyond looked dark and uninviting.

Something to her side moved, and she had to muffle a shriek into her hand. There, in the blackness that had descended upon her bedroom, were two eyes; icy points of inhuman light, gazing at her in frightening scrutiny. She nearly shrieked again but the figure was stepping forward into her little haven of celestial light now, and she realized, with no small amount of agitation, that she definitely knew who he was. Not that it was terribly comforting knowing the Goblin King had been watching her while she was completely defenseless, but better him than an axe murderer, she supposed.

Sarah wasn't sure what she was expecting, but after Jareth's wonderful performance earlier that day she had rather hoped that he would leave her alone for a day or two. No such luck, apparently.

He was less than a foot away when she realized that he looked _different_. His clothes were even simpler than they had been that morning: a plain white shirt and black breeches, neither of which appeared to be made out of the delicate materials he usually wore. And his hair… It was longer and tame, pulled back into a ponytail that was more of a dirty blonde than a golden-silver. He even seemed a bit smaller, younger perhaps, or simply less ageless. Really, it wasn't much because she had still been able to tell that it was Jareth almost right away, but she supposed to a casual glance he would be a little harder to identify. As she eyed him, she couldn't help but feel suspicious.

He smirked at her slow study, and then gave her a mocking bow. "What? I don't even get a hello, Sarah?" he asked when she remained silent.

"I don't trust you," she stated simply, while trying to shake the last of her sleep away. There was no way she was going to present him with an easy target just because she was tired.

"I should hope not; it would take all the fun out of our relationship if you went about being all complacent," he smiled, and she couldn't quite tell if his words were meant to be mocking or taken as the truth.

Sarah peered through the darkness; she could barely make out the small form of the hourglass, but the tiny grains of sand seemed to be pouring out at a sluggish pace. She turned back to Jareth, and her eyes narrowed as she once again took in his altered appearance. "What do you want _this_ time?"

"So distrusting," he laughed with a shake of his head. "I thought we could start out with something simple. I would like for you to accompany me on a walk," here he held out a gloved hand in offering.

"A walk?" He nodded, hand still held aloft expectantly. Sarah frowned. 'Is he _mad_?' she thought. 'If I had him at my mercy, I'd have something a lot more sinister in mind than a walk. Exercise is hardly my idea of revenge.' Once again he had proven his amazing ability to do nothing she expected of him.

Jareth raise an eyebrow (that was slightly less sculpted than she was used to) at her hesitation. She ignored it; now was not a time for rash action. "Where?" she asked.

"Someplace you have never been," he answered vaguely, then added sincerely, "somewhere I am quite fond of."

Curiosity peeked at what Jareth's type of haunt would be, Sarah finally took the proffered hand, which took hers in a strong grip. For a moment she felt supremely disoriented, but it quickly passed.

Her tiny, Spartan room melted away to reveal something that tore a gasp from her throat. They were now standing on a narrow cobblestone path that meandered its way through the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. The moon shone down casting purple and silver light onto the scene, but it was hardly necessary, for the garden seemed capable of lighting itself. Beside where they stood were the most amazing shrubberies: the leaves were a soft orange and yielded sparkling blue flowers that looked as though they were made from finely cut sapphires. Ahead of her was a patch of wildflowers in nearly every color imaginable, and they all seemed to twinkle and glow like flower-shaped Christmas lights.

The two began to walk at a leisurely pace, Sarah occasionally pausing to gaze at something appreciatively. Eventually they made it to a clearing that nearly took her breath away. Grass, in an unmistakable shade of deep blue, stretched over a gentle hill, at the bottom of which was a lake. The water lapped quietly at its tiny shores, and with the help of the moon looked like liquid silver. Surrounding the lake were tall, ancient trees that drooped like Weeping Willows. The tips of their branches sported red thistle-like flowers that dimmed, brightened, and danced like the embers of a dying fire; they cast a gentle glow over the entire clearing. As they drew closer to the small lake, she noticed what looked like hundreds of fireflies flitting over the placid waters.

_

* * *

Sarah seemed to be in stunned awe which, he thought, worked quite to his advantage. She couldn't be anxious and on edge if her surroundings relaxed her. They began walking lazy trails that wove in and out of the Mieren trees, and before long she finally found her voice._

"_What is this place?" she whispered, as though afraid to disturb the quiet tranquility._

"_K'shent Mier," Jareth replied with great pride. She looked at him confusedly. "In your language it would roughly translate into The City of Lights."_

_Sarah furrowed her brow and looked around. "The lights I understand, but this is a city?"_

_He chuckled and linked arms with her, steering her away from some upraised tree roots. "This is one of the public gardens within the city. K'shent Mier is my capital within this particular region and somewhat central to all other regions in the Underground, so I am here quite often on Imperial business. This garden is a place I frequently come to, to relax after having to deal with things that are better left alone."_

_Sarah's fingers flexed on his arm slightly, as though unsure of what to do with herself, but she kept their arms linked. Jareth savored the contact, hoping it meant that she was becoming more at ease with his presence. "Your capital within this region… How many regions do you govern?" she frowned and looked at him from the side._

"_All of them," he answered somewhat wearily. "Many areas are directly governed by the local nobility, but they all defer to me. I more or less control the entire Underground." If their arms hadn't been linked he would have been rubbing his temples at the thought of tomorrow's Court session._

"_Wow." Sarah paused, "And I thought just controlling the Labyrinth would be tough." _

_He shook his head, "The Labyrinth and I are of one mind, there is no need to control it." With a sigh he added, "The rest of the kingdom, however, requires a much firmer hand."_

_She studied him for a minute. "You seem somewhat reluctant to get yourself involved."_

"_It's rather complicated. Fae society moves in circuitous patterns, and the only way to keep it from collapsing in on itself is periodic intervention from the Monarchy, in this case me." He stared up into the dim and glowing branches of the trees, wondering if she could understand what sort of effect being the King had on him. "It's like ruling your own little planet, Sarah; without your hand to guide it everything speeds toward chaos. I have been keeping my people out of anarchy for centuries, and on occasion it tires me beyond all comprehension."_

_She came to a stop and turned to face him. "Then why are you king?" she asked confusedly._

"_There was hardly any choice in the matter. My father was King before me; it was only natural that I, as his first born son, take the throne. Either that or abdicate, which would have been a dishonor to my ancestors and disservice to my people." He urged her forward, continuing their walk._

* * *

Sarah was quiet for a long while after that. Who knew that Jareth did so much? It had never even crossed her mind that he might rule over more than just the Labyrinth. Granted, she had only known him for a very short period of time, but this weary regal figure seemed to be a completely different person from the cunning Goblin King she had met. Was he off negotiating the end to wars while she was getting frustrated with algebra equations? It made her life seem so simple in comparison. And how terrible, she thought, how maddening it must be to have so much expected of you just because of who your parents were. This wasn't like the fairy kings she had learned about in stories, she realized; this was real government, real lives that he was sworn to protect. 'And then running the Labyrinth on top of that,' Sarah thought in amazement. 'It's a good thing he has power over time, or he'd never get anything done.'

'I wonder what his policies are like,' she wondered. Did the people like him? Had he inherited the throne from a tyrant? Was he a good king? Questions began to swirl around her head, and in one moment of absolute clarity Sarah realized that she knew nothing about him other than how he acted in the Labyrinth. The man standing beside her was confusing. On one hand he had been shrewd and cruel, but now he spoke of honor and responsibility. Just who _was_ Jareth anyway?

The silence stretched on as they continued to walk. Her thoughts were running themselves in circles, and she had gotten to the point where, until she learned more about him, she was going to have to stop thinking about it. Jareth seemed content just to stroll along with her, but the utter lack of sound was beginning to unnerve her. She tried to think of something to talk about.

Sarah glanced at him for a moment and was once again struck with the changes in his appearance. Well, she figured, that was as good of a topic as any. "So what's with the new look? Just get bored?"

Jareth chuckled, "I don't need rumors circulating that someone saw me at three in the morning in a deserted garden with a woman that no one has ever seen before. Might seem somewhat dodgy of a public figure."

"But you still look like yourself," she argued. "I recognized almost immediately."

"Yes, but for that one second you weren't sure." She was still unconvinced, so he tried again, "Sarah, do you make a habit of studying every person you pass on the street?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Then why should anyone spare me more than a glance? If they don't believe they know me right away then they aren't going to bother themselves with pursuing me further."

"If you say so," she shook her head again. Sarah paused, then asked, "Did you say it was three in the morning?"

"Indeed. Which reminds me, I ought to get you back home before the sun rises here," he murmured somewhat dispassionately. "Until next time, my dear," he clasped her hand and she was once again overcome with dizziness.

When Sarah reopened her eyes, it was to the darkness of her tiny bedroom. Alone with her thoughts she pondered for a minute. If that was how Jareth intended to spend her time, then maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. They must have been walking for at least two hours! 'Possibly three,' she amended with a groan, feeling how sore her feet were. Quietly she got ready for bed, glancing over at her vanity once she was settled under her sheets. She noticed two things. One, it was only a little past 11pm, which was great because she was exhausted. Two…

_Much less_ than a thirteenth of the sand had filtered through the hourglass to rest in the bottom bulb.

* * *

A/N: I'm trying to work on chapter length, so this one is a little bit longer than usual. Anyway, I had trouble with this chapter for some reason; it just really didn't want to be written, so please tell me what you thought!

I just went through the original notes that I had written for this story and, _man,_ have things changed! For the better, trust me. My original plans were kind of simple and dry.

Well, I managed to resurrect my laptop, but I'm not holding out any hopes that it'll last for very long. I'm officially working off my flash-drive, so if the comp crashes again there won't be any backup issues like last time.

Once again, thank you to everybody who reviewed. It means a lot to me to hear what you have to say. Please take the time to do it again (or for the first time)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, but I am beginning to suspect that there are goblins living in my laptop. Either that, or demons…


	17. A Warning

Chapter Seventeen: A Warning.

She was in the Study again. _His_ Study. It was cold and the fire provided no comfort, sputtering and dimming erratically. The room was silent, but not empty. If she strained her eyes she could make out those damned shadow-people flitting all over the place. One phantom seemed to browse the bookshelves while others raided the alcohol cabinet and rummaged through the desk drawers.

Sarah rubbed her tired eyes. "It's like a never-ending nightmare," she murmured to herself. The last thing she remembered was going to bed with murderous feelings toward the Goblin King, and thoughts of breaking the hourglass to ease some of her frustration.

"No, no," gasped the closest shadow, the silhouette of a young man. "No nightmares, not from us, not for the Lady," he whispered secretively, in a broken accent.

"Alright, if this isn't a nightmare then what is it?" she asked, straining to see past the ghostly figure, to 'pierce the veil' as Jareth had said.

"A warning," he breathed out, "a warning not to break."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Not to break what?" she asked confusedly, looking around to see if she had been on the verge of wrecking anything.

The phantom drew closer and turned his head in all directions, as though looking for eavesdroppers. "Not to break contract," he lifted a wispy finger, and the image of a scroll appeared just above him. "Not to break glass," the scroll changed to reflect the image of her hourglass. "Never break glass," he shivered as his illusion splintered and sent imaginary shards flying everywhere. For a moment he stared at the tiny chips of magic, then seemed to collect himself and move on. "Not to break hope," now the image shifted to a small silver and gold ring. The other shadows had started watching at this point, and he seemed to hesitate at what he had to say next. "Not to break King," this time the illusion really did shatter, bits of chaotic magic imbedding itself wherever it could, and the others gasped, standing still and frightened. "_Never break King_," he whimpered. The pieces of energy that had not yet found homes began twisting together, forming a tiny maze in midair. "Or terrible things come again."

For a brief moment Sarah felt the room shift and spin, as though warning that further conversation was ill advised. The ghostly figures frantically began to scramble out of the Study, leaving her alone with the dying fire.

_

* * *

Time was beginning to become an issue, Jareth realized after returning from the walk. The nighttime rendezvous' he had planned would not be affected, but with Court in session it was going to be hard to get away during the days. And that just wouldn't do, he decided; he had something wonderful in mind, too wonderful to go to waste. But he could not, in good conscience, forsake the welfare of his Kingdom for Sarah, no matter how lovely she was. There had to be a way around it, a way that he could maintain peace while simultaneously perusing his Lady. But even he, powerful as he was, could not be in two places at once._

_Unless…_

_Quickly, Jareth pulled on one of the many tendrils that kept him fully aware of all aspects of the Labyrinth, and sent out an urgent calling. Dark strength called back to him, and he allowed himself a wicked grin._

* * *

For a moment Sarah expected to suddenly find herself speeding toward consciousness, but it seemed this dream was not over yet. The shadows had fled, leaving Jareth's Study empty and ominous. Along the far wall, the fire finally gave its' last pitiful flicker before plunging the room into darkness. Her heart leapt in response, painfully thudding against her ribs. 'This shouldn't scare me,' she told herself angrily, 'after all I've been through, both in the Labyrinth and the last few days, this shouldn't scare me!' The light from the open door became murky and erratic, as though someone were carrying away the only torch that lit the hall outside. An uncomfortable lump began to form in her throat. 'How easy it would be,' her mind thought traitorously, 'for one of those shadows to sneak back in without me noticing.' Something in the far corner struck the ground with a deafening bang and she instinctively bolted for the door.

The hallway beyond the Study was wide with open ceilings. Walls of polished, green stone rose up around her, fading into the shadows of the rafter supports. Sarah took an uneasy look down either end of the corridor; in one direction it seemed to stretch on forever before bending off out of sight and in the other direction it connected to a wealth of stairways leading in all different directions. Not quite as confusing as the Escher Room, she decided, but complicated nonetheless. With her back still to the Study (which she was guessing she just fled because an unbalanced book fell to the floor) she tried to figure out which way to go.

Deciding that she had seen enough staircases in Jareth's kingdom on her previous stay, Sarah began marching down the longer end of the hallway, silently willing herself to wake up with every step. It wasn't a bad corridor really, she thought, there were bright sconces along the walls keeping things chipper and warm; it was just the fact that she had no idea why she was here that ruined the whole experience. Truth be told, she had nearly forgotten about these dreams before Jareth had come storming back into her life. What was worse was that she had no idea how they were connected.

Who were these shadows? It was obvious that they lived under the Goblin King's rule, but were they goblins, dwarves, or some other sort of bizarre monster? Did they even live in the Labyrinth? 'Come to think of it, they've always appeared to be rather humanoid,' she thought, remembering her previous dreams. So did that really make them human? Or were they something else entirely; perhaps Jareth's kind? It was odd, she mused, how she hadn't been able to break through the veil to see them, but then again she had only managed to do that with the Royal Annoyance, so perhaps it all hinged upon knowing them ahead of time.

Sarah continued to walk, her bare feet quietly slapping against the floor. It was amazingly warm for stone, but she hardly noticed as her mind ran in circles with so many questions. Thus occupied, she was greatly unaware of her surroundings when she finally turned the sharp corner she had seen from the Study. A short flight of stairs greeted her rather unexpectedly, and she tumbled down them with a shriek. She came to a thudding stop at the bottom, cursing anything she could think of for her rotten luck. Something off to her side sniggered and she whipped her head around, ready to give them the tongue-lashing of their lives.

But no one was there.

A sharp pain shot up from her hand and, with a groan of frustration, Sarah realized her right palm was bleeding.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen but then, suddenly, she was surrounded by a presence. It was dark and angry, agitated and oppressive. Without a doubt, this was what had scared the shadows out of the Study. Sarah shivered, her heart beating a mile a minute. She couldn't _see_ anything; her eyes were very clear on the fact that there was nobody around her, but all the same she could feel an iron-strength hand gently lifting her own up, as if for inspection. Something in the air around her shimmered, as though reality was ever-so-subtly bending, and for a moment she could almost make out the faintest of forms. A tiny drop of blood pulled free from her palm and silently fell to the marble below her. In a flash the hallway became frigid, ice beginning to coat the walls and frost dancing merrily in the cracks between stones. If she hadn't been terrified she would have had the good sense to shiver.

The nothingness-that-was-definitely-something pulled her forward; panicked at the thought of being closer to this unidentifiable force, Sarah tried to jerk away. The corridor grew slightly more chilled but the grip did not loosen. "Don't be difficult," a multitude of the same voice seemed to whisper from all directions. Her hand suddenly became numb, and it was with a sick fascination that she slowly watched the skin of her palm knit itself closed.

Invisible fingers caressed her wrist, then slid over the newly mended flesh; with a jolt she realized that all sensation in that area felt electric, it tingled and pulsed. The fingers continued their exploration, running back over her wrist before ghosting down her forearm. They paused at her inner elbow (drawing a shudder out of her suddenly over-sensitized body) and the air was suddenly thick with another presence; a current seemed to float around whatever it was that stood in front of her.

Hoping to use this opportunity to escape, Sarah used her body weight to pull back on her arm. With great surprise, she was released rather easily. The thing chuckled. "I would ask that you be more careful, but it appears that you shall be well taken care of in the coming days," the splintered voice whispered out, and even in such quiet tones she could still hear its' blatant amusement. The air around her thickened, almost unbearably so, and for a moment she froze as lips pressed themselves against her own, but they were gone before she could fully comprehend, or react to, their presence.

"What the hell is going on?!" Sarah finally managed to find her voice.

"Don't fight us," the disembodied voice answered fiercely.

She was about to progress to the shouting phase of her frustration when the hallway flooded with warmth again, and Sarah knew without a doubt that she was alone.

"It would be a lot less stressful for you if you just gave in," perhaps not completely alone. "Of course, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun for us if you did, so I suppose it's a bit of a moot point," the whisper began to range in volume, sometimes sounding like it was down the hall, other times like it was right behind her.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

* * *

With a jerk that she was becoming accustomed to, Sarah flailed her way out of sleep. Looking around her room she tried to orient herself. Her palm still felt like it was humming, and if she concentrated she could feel the barest hint of that specter hanging in the air. For a moment she focused on nothing but breathing. That dream had been intense; she hadn't understood most of it, but it had affected her all the same.

Outside, something roared down the street and Sarah got the horrible feeling that today was only going to get worse.

* * *

A/N: Oh god, I _never_ meant to go that long without updating. I'm really sorry! I kind of fell into an emotional funk for a little bit, and that always screws up my writing schedule. Also, my classes are a bit more work intensive than last semester, so I'll probably only be able to update once a week from now on. Again, I truly apologize for all this.

(If you were confused by this chapter, let me say this: good. I want you to be. If you weren't then, for my sake, could you pretend you were?)

A really big thank you to everyone who reviewed; I'd list you all by name but there were just so many! Anyway, please keep at it; I get inspired by what you all have to say! Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable as having come from Labyrinth. This story is a work of fiction, and meant for entertainment purposes only.


	18. Manipulation

Chapter Eighteen: Manipulation.

Toby had always been a bit of an oddity. Sometimes he was just a happy, carefree boy with normal worries like when the next slice of cake was coming along, but other times…

Sarah had been an advanced child herself, reading by four and skipping kindergarten straight into first grade. Still, by five she had not been able to understand the game Risk. And Toby did, amazingly so. She could narrow it down until the entire map was under her control, save Greenland, and he would still make some freakishly outstanding comeback, conquering the world in just a few turns. It was the same with Chess.

The trouble was her little brother was a strategist. He could play one person against another until he finally got what he wanted. Most five year olds could only manipulate through tears, but not Toby. No, Toby was cunning; she could see plans flash behind those sweet blue eyes. And if she were honest with herself, it scared her. One minute she'd be watching cartoons with her little brother, and the next thing she knew she was sitting across from a stranger. No not a stranger, because, and this was what scared her most of all, sometimes Toby reminded her of someone. Of _him_. Of course, until just recently she hadn't remembered Jareth, but Sarah had still noticed that something about her dear little brother was slightly off.

She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes right now.

Sarah had been intent on spending the rest of the day in bed, the logic being that if she didn't do anything then nothing bad could happen. She could admit that it was cowardice, but something was just screaming at her to stay put, to not tempt fate. Besides, after Karen's misguided conclusions yesterday, Sarah had no desire to face her stepmother, not when she would start trying to wrestle out more information on a boyfriend that didn't, technically, exist.

Toby seemed to have other ideas, however. He had flung the door open and proceeded to stare at his sister from the hallway. For a long moment nothing happened; he didn't enter her room and Sarah began to feel uncomfortable in the face of those calculating child-eyes. "I like him," he finally said, then casually walked across the hall and disappeared into his own room.

Sarah stared after him for while, wondering what the hell he had meant by that. With a sinking feeling she realized that, perhaps, bad luck had already found her, and staying in bed was just delaying the inevitable.

_

* * *

He wasn't playing fair anymore, had decided a long time ago that you couldn't play fair against Sarah if you wanted to win. True, it wasn't very sporting to back her into a corner, but he didn't want all his efforts to ensure his Kingdom was looked after to go to waste just because the girl was being stubborn. So logically, that meant he was going to have to force her hand._

_Jareth, allowing himself a wicked grin at the thought of Sarah's reaction, temporarily ignored the prattling woman at his side._

* * *

By the time Sarah began to descend the stairs she could hear voices coming from the parlor. 'That's weird,' she thought, 'who would visit on a Tuesday morning?' Maybe this was who Toby had been talking about. But if so, then why had he felt the need to inform her of his opinion when she hadn't even been aware anyone was over?

Halfway down the stairs Sarah jumped; her palm was tingling again. Looking down at the appendage she could see the pale, jagged line where her skin had knit itself back together. It felt oddly cooler than the rest of her skin, more sensitive even, and it was really beginning to disturb her how it was humming to life again. She had rather hoped it had only done that earlier because there was some lingering magic from her dream. With renewed dread she made her way to the front room.

Sarah stopped dead.

Whatever she had been preparing herself for, this was worse. _So much worse._ On one side of the room was her father and her stepmother, sitting on the love seat and laughing like they were trying to impress somebody at a cocktail party. Across from them was, well… Jareth. At least, she hoped it was Jareth, otherwise there were two of those monsters running around, and that was more than the world could handle. His eyes lifted and locked with hers, but it seemed her parents hadn't noticed her yet, so she took the moment to study him.

Like the night before, Sarah could tell who it was, but he looked quite a bit different from the haughty Goblin King she was used to. Jareth was smaller, younger, more human. His face was still all planes and angles, and much more beautiful than any man had a right to be, but if she looked hard enough she could detect the barest amount of stubble that all men seemed to have. The eyes had not changed however, the left pupil was still larger than the right, causing one eye to appear a darker blue than the other; the eyebrows were more human though, curved rather than swooping, even if the tips did flair out a bit. His hair was wild as ever, but much shorter, and closer to a strawberry blonde color rather than golden-silver. Jareth raised an eyebrow at her perusal, but she couldn't pull herself away yet.

To someone who was used to seeing him in flamboyant, otherworldly regalia, his new clothes seemed all wrong. They were much too normal but, in an odd way, they worked for him. Jareth was wearing a hunter green shirt under a black-suede jacket along with a pair of dark jeans and leather boots. Sarah could see the outline of something under his shirt, so she assumed he was wearing his amulet, but… He wasn't wearing gloves. It was the first time she had ever seen his hands bare, and she was struck by how pale they looked, even in comparison to the rest of him. Slowly she brought her eyes back up and flushed guiltily when she noticed him smirking at her.

Karen, realizing that she had lost her audience some time ago, turned around to find a shocked and blushing Sarah standing uncomfortably in the doorway. "Oh good, you're up," she bubbled happily, "why don't you join us?"

Sarah glanced at her, but quickly turned her attention back to Jareth. "What are you doing here?" she asked, sounding vaguely panicked. She already had a pretty good idea what the Goblin King was doing in her parlor and looking frighteningly human; she was just praying that she might be wrong.

Jareth gave her a sheepish grin, but she could see the devilish smirk in his eyes. "Now don't get mad, love," he soothed with just a little too much conviction for Sarah's taste, "but after you told me how your family was starting to get suspicious, I figured maybe it would be better to do the honorable thing and introduce myself. Finish all this sneaking around business once and for all."

For a moment Sarah swore she could literally feel her world turning itself upside-down. Jareth was pretending to be her boyfriend! On one hand, it meant that Karen wouldn't pester her for details and she wouldn't have to go out and find some boy to do exactly what the man in front of her was doing. But on the other hand, this was the _Goblin King_ that her parents were getting chatty with. And besides that, why was he doing it at all? 'Oh god,' she realized, 'he must want something.' It had been something about him that she learned rather quickly: Jareth didn't do anything for free; there was always some sort of price attached.

_

* * *

Jareth allowed himself a quiet chuckle while no one was paying attention._

_Sarah looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights, standing in the doorway frightened and confused. Her parents were both focused on her panicked frame as she tried to make sense of what was going on, or possibly sputter out a denial. He frowned at that last part but quickly brushed it aside, confident that he hadn't left her enough room to talk her way out of things without making it sound like she was being completely unreasonable. _

"_Sarah, are you okay?" her father asked in concern when several minutes passed without her moving an inch._

_He could have been a gentleman, but of course Sarah wasn't cooperating so he was going to have to lay it on a bit thick. Jareth stood up and made his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his chin on her shoulder. "It's alight darling, they know about us now. We don't have to hide anymore," he murmured into her ear, just loud enough for her parents to hear him. She stiffened slightly in his arms, but made no move to fight him. Taking that as a good sign, he led her over to the couch, sitting her down close to himself and placing one arm behind her shoulders. She shot him an angry glare that promised a great deal of yelling the next time they were alone, but didn't move from her position plastered to his side._

'_Well, well,' Jareth though in triumph, 'it seems Sarah is willing to play after all.' He crowed on the inside, 'Too bad she doesn't know the rules.'_

* * *

A/N: I don't know if that counts as a cliffhanger. I hope you all liked this chapter, it took me an unreasonably long time to write; I kept wandering away from the computer in the middle of sentences. Oh, and for anyone who was wondering about the timeline here, we have spanned less than a week. The story began on a Friday night, and we have now reached Tuesday morning.

Well, I'm glad that people were as confused as I had hoped they would be. I dropped a few hints in previous chapters, so I was afraid that everyone would know what I was doing right away; yay for subtlety! (Of course, I've been dropping hints left and right for several things, so kudos to anyone who manages to untangle it all and figure out my game before I explain everything.) The vast majority of you seemed to be bothered by my new once-a-week schedule; I _am_ sorry, I would love to update more often and I _will_ try to, but chances are I'll only have enough time to get one chapter finished every seven days.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! An extra special thank you to Lady Meg (for giving me the opportunity to do the Happy Dance by admitting she had been confused), MaitressedeSeine (for commiserating and telling me to relax), and really anyone who's still reading this snooze-fest after 18 chapters. You people make me so happy!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never could have been since it was released the year before I was born…


	19. Terms of Endearment, Terms of Agreement

Chapter Nineteen: Terms of Endearment, Terms of Agreement.

There were times when Sarah felt as though the whole world were out to get her. Usually she was just being overly dramatic, but this time she felt somewhat justified.

Jareth was conducting himself as a perfect gentleman, which was something Sarah had thought she'd never live to see. 'Although,' she realized, 'he was born a king; this is probably a step down from Court Etiquette.' It was just odd to see him be so polite, to be so forthcoming with information (albeit false information, but still it was more than he had ever given her). Even now that he had established his role as her 'boyfriend' he never overstepped any boundaries; he kept touching to a minimum, one arm around her shoulders and the other holding one of her hands (it had been something of a shock when she had felt the bare skin of his hand on hers; his skin was cold and nearly as soft as the silk gloves he had worn in the ballroom). He wasn't pressing his luck, which was something that confused her to no end. This man sitting next to her was almost unrecognizable as the Goblin King she knew: a man who would use every situation to his complete advantage. No, the Fae casually chatting away in her parlor was more like the brief glimpse of the king she had seen on their walk last night. And yet, he was still different somehow. He had seemed content with her company then, as he did now, but he had also appeared to her as a weary monarch, someone who was exhausted from bearing the greatest of responsibilities. Perhaps Jareth was acting, but at the moment he seemed so insanely pleased with the situation that Sarah was having a hard time not getting excited herself. No matter what the consequences were, there was always something exhilarating about pulling off an elaborate lie in front of her parents.

Jareth shifted ever so subtly at her side and laced their fingers together, which made Karen's smile widen so much Sarah was amazed it didn't split her face in two. Her parents seemed to absolutely adore him, which was a bit of a horror in and of itself. On one hand it meant that their little ruse was believable, but on the other hand it meant that perhaps they were laying it on a bit too thick, which would be bad for her because then it would make any sort of break up with him just that much harder to justify.

Karen and Robert asked question after question, but Sarah was content to let Jareth do all the answering. He was better at coming up with something on the spot, and if she only offered support information it meant that she would never have to worry about them contradicting each other. It was almost scary, in a way, how well they worked together pulling the wool over her parents' eyes.

_

* * *

He had been surprised when Sarah allowed him to take the lead in their little act. She was usually such an independent person that he had been worried they would end up arguing about a past that didn't exist in the first place. But she had relented with absolutely no prodding on his part, content to merely embellish the lies he had already told. Their words danced around each other so effortlessly that he couldn't help but imagine what the two of them would be like in Court together. She was fiery and impulsive, but she knew how to curb her tongue when it counted most; Jareth had been much the same when he had first ascended to the throne. The work they could get done, the ideas they could spawn, the delightful havoc that they could wreak! There was no doubt in his mind; Sarah was more suited to be his Queen than any woman he had ever met._

_It was interesting, though, how eagerly she went along with him. Perhaps their link went both ways, that she could feel his emotions just as well as he could feel hers. Of course, without his intimate knowledge of the calling, she would be unable to distinguish between which feelings were hers and which were his. Jareth frowned at that thought; while it did suit his needs that she be at least mildly complacent, it didn't seem proper to suppress her inner ire. He would have to teach her the basics of sharing an empathic link. It was her stubborn nature that intrigued him the most; he didn't want her to be swayed by his emotions any further than normal consideration (which, with Sarah, was usually no consideration at all). He needed a strong Queen, not some frail woman who would bend to his every whim. When a queen could disagree with her king, argue her point with skill, it typically lead to better governing because the two would balance each other out. _

_Still, Jareth was not so delusional as to believe that just because she was playing along right now, didn't mean she wasn't incredibly mad at him. He could feel her anger simmering just beneath the surface. But he could also feel her curiosity, and that would always be Sarah's downfall. No matter what else she was feeling, curiosity was almost always what directed her actions. That cunning little mind of hers had the insatiable need to know as much as possible. She might yell and accuse him of things that he may or may not have done, but in the end she would be willing to listen and bargain because that was the only way she would ever learn anything._

_Shaking his head, Jareth brought himself back to the present. The Karen-creature seemed so willing to accept him that he was almost astounded. If it was this easy to win her stepmother's approval then nearly any rake could waltz in and be with the girl! It was her father that kept him from outright explaining the proper ways to protect a maiden from the more ignoble characters out in the world. Robert, though still accepting of his presence, seemed more reserved about trusting any man with his first and only daughter. To be honest, Jareth hadn't thought much about Sarah's caregivers; her stepmother was a bit too much like the socialites that he was used to dealing with, but her father he now had some respect for. The man was no fool, he knew exactly what sort of danger a boyfriend could be to his daughter's virtue, but he seemed willing to trust that Jareth's intensions ran deeper than simply carnal desire. _

"_So where did you two meet, anyhow? Sarah never mentioned a thing about you, that sneaky little girl. Why, if I hadn't heard the two of you yesterday morning, I bet we never would have known that she had a boyfriend!" Karen bubbled enthusiastically. _

_Sarah glanced at him sideways, but he had already prepared for this question. _

"_We met at the University; I'm studying there for some time abroad. It was last semester that we crossed paths. I bumped into her in the library while she was working on a research paper. One of the books she had out caught my eye; I seldom meet anyone with an interest old superstitions. We got to talking, and it turned out that we were in the same History course," the lie rolled off his tongue as smoothly as if it had been the truth. _

* * *

Sarah relaxed a bit at his side, grateful that he had chosen a part of her life that her parents knew very little about. She hadn't kept in very good contact with her family while she was away, and she had only just returned for winter break a few days ago. There was absolutely no way that they would be able to detect the lie. Karen, who seemed completely content with the answer, moved on to other questions in much the same way as she had been all morning.

Sarah was becoming restless. While it was true that they were doing a great job of fabricating a relationship that was almost the complete opposite of what they truly shared, it was only a matter of time before one of them made a slip of the tongue. And besides that, she wanted to know just what _the hell_ Jareth thought he was doing. In the course of saving her some trouble with her parents he had created a whole new set of problems which, she realized, was probably what he had wanted to do in the first place. But still, there had to be a reason for it, a method to his madness.

After a while Karen finally relented. Turning to her husband she said, "Well, I think it's about time that we left the two lovebirds to their own devices." She threw Sarah a coy look that, under any other circumstances, would have horrified her but at the moment just made her want to laugh. 'Yes Karen, because I'm going to jump his bones the second we get out of earshot,' she thought sarcastically. 'Give me a little more credit that that; I'm not some mindlessly horny twit.' As she tugged the Goblin King resolutely _away_ from her parents, she couldn't help but snicker. They were going to tumble alright, just in a way a lot less physical than her stepmother seemed to be hinting at.

As soon as her bedroom door was closed securely behind them, Sarah whirled around to face Jareth. "What are you doing?" she asked calmly, saving her anger for the answer that she was certain she wasn't going like.

He smiled, leaning casually against her vanity table. "It occurred to me last night that your parents' suspicion was a problem we both created, and so it only seemed fair that we should both solve it," he replied just as calmly.

"How did you even know they were suspicious in the first place?" She narrowed her eyes angrily at the smirk beginning to bloom over his face. "No, don't tell me," she decided before he could say anything, "it would probably just piss me off, and I have bigger things to worry about right now than you turning voyeur on me."

Jareth shrugged elegantly, "Quite frankly, I'm surprised that you're not already shouting about that. But you are right; you do have bigger things to worry about."

She studied him for a moment. His personality had shifted again. The polite, considerate man from the parlor was gone and had been replaced by none other than the haughty Goblin King she was used to. In a way it relaxed her, she had more experience handling this aspect of him, but it also put her on guard; this part of him was dangerous, the very manifestation of every story she had ever read about the ambiguous Fae creatures. There was no telling what went on behind those mysterious eyes of his.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

Jareth studied his nails and, never looking up, answered her, "Their suspicions are abated Sarah. Therefore the problem is solved, which means that my participation in this little lie is now completed."

She gazed at him in open-mouthed horror. "They'd be even more suspicious if my wonderful new boyfriend simply vanished. You can't just create this whole mess and then leave!"

"I can and I will," he replied breezily. "Unless…"

She didn't like where this was going, but it wasn't as though she hadn't expected him to want something out of the whole ordeal. "Unless what?" she asked wearily.

He finally lifted his head, and fixed her with an intense stare. It seemed that he took his bargaining quite seriously. "You have to agree to my terms Sarah," he whispered softly. "I want to recognize a partition in the time we spend together. Time spent pretending to be your suitor will not count towards fulfilling your debt to me; only when we are together Underground will sand pass through that hourglass." His gaze was hooded, compelling. There was a lazy air about him, something she hadn't seen since she had run the Labyrinth. "Of course, you are perfectly able to deny my request," he added quietly, pushing away from the vanity and taking slow steps toward her, "but should you do so, my aid extends no further." He was sneering now, trying to bait her into making the decision before she had had the chance to think about it.

Jareth took a few steps closer to her, and all at once Sarah realized that she was being stalked. Quickly, she tried to put some distance between them, but it was too late; he almost had her completely cornered against the door. As he drew closer her thoughts began to cloud. 'Wouldn't it be nice,' some part of her purred, 'to be surrounded by all that strength?' She tried shaking the thought away, but the feminine part of her had to admire the picture that he made: pale, beautiful features flashing with a power that was beyond human reckoning. As her mind led her to distraction, Jareth backed her up until she was pressed between him and the door. Belatedly, she realized the error of getting lost while in his presence. 'NoNoNo,' some mildly cognizant part of her was chanting, while another was practically melting under him. His very being surrounded her, overwhelming her in a way that it had never done before.

"Sarah," he sing-songed quietly.

"No," she struggled against him but, despite his human appearance, his strength was still inhuman. It was like trying to move a brick wall. "I can't think," she all but wailed.

"There's nothing to think about," he soothed, resting his chin on her shoulder. He spoke into her ear in low tones, making his voice feel like the caress of warm satin, "Just accept my terms and be done with it, darling."

Something was wrong here, she realized distantly. This was exactly how she had felt when he had been persuading her to sign his contract, only many times worse. Being this close to him did something to her.

She couldn't think.

She _needed_ to think.

_

* * *

Jareth brought his arms up to encircle her waist, pulling her more solidly against his own frame. He didn't want to scare her off, but Sarah had absolutely no idea how inviting she looked when she was flustered. For 19 years he had been connected to her, and for 19 years he had been denied even the smallest satisfaction. With his head still buried in the curve of her neck, he began to leave a trail of butterfly kisses across the skin that was bared to him._

"_Just say yes, Sarah," he compelled._

* * *

A/N: Am I evil, or what? I've never really written romantic action before, so you'll all just have to bear with me as I learn. Anyway, tell me what you thought!

I'm really, very sorry about how long this chapter took. It was a combination of being personally unmotivated and extremely busy. I tried to make this chapter a little longer than usual to make up for that. Hopefully 20 won't take nearly as long!

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed! It really just warms my heart to see what you all think. (I apologize for the snooze-fest comment in the last chapter; a lot of people seemed to take offense at that (sorry MaitressedeSeine, I promise it won't happen again ;) .) Sonata IX: Sarah gets her own back in the next chapter, so don't you worry if it seems like Jareth is dominating the situation too much right now.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Labyrinth.


	20. Equal Footing

Chapter Twenty: Equal Footing.

_A strangled gasp escaped Sarah's lips as Jareth lightly grazed his teeth across the delicate column of her throat. He almost chuckled; she was putting up an admirable fight. Most women would have relented by now, but not his Sarah. No, she was made of stronger will, not to be swayed by physical distractions or the magic of trances._

_He pulled some of her pale skin into his mouth, worrying it ever so slightly with his eyeteeth. Another noise left her, something that was beginning to approach a moan, and he pulled back just enough to view his handiwork. It would be small, but the skin would bruise nonetheless; an adorable little lovebite, if he did say so himself. _

* * *

Sarah's world had narrowed until it existed of nothing but the way Jareth's lips felt ghosting across her skin. She knew that he was just trying to prevent her from thinking clearly, but-

Oh god, he was nibbling now!

-try as she might, she was still enjoying it. Little thrills of excitement raced up and down her spine, and her skin seemed to hum to life wherever he touched her. She was hypersensitive, and it was working in his favor.

Sarah had dated in the past and wasn't exactly a stranger to the world of necking, but this was different. Like everything else about him, this was simply on a level that boys her age could never hope to reach. Still, she couldn't let that-

She shivered violently as he caught the cartilage of her ear with one of his canine teeth.

-distract her.

A moan finally made its' way passed her lips as he ran his tongue along the curve of her ear. He paused at the sound, and she worried that he was going to start gloating.

His breath puffed against her skin, and for a moment she thought she'd die if he didn't do something –anything- soon. "Sarah," he said in a low voice that was more of a growl than any actual words, "agree to it." He punctuated his brief sentence by nipping at the skin just below her jaw. "Agree to it, and you won't have to feel so conflicted."

'Just give in,' something whispered in the back of her mind. 'If you do, you'll be able to focus more wholly on what that wonderful mouth of his is doing to you.' And really, giving in wouldn't be so bad, she thought, it wasn't as though he was asking for much. He just wanted to make sure that recent developments didn't affect the payment of her debt. It was simply a recognized difference about why they were together. Sure, that probably meant they would have to spend more time together, but-

Something in her brain clicked and a little bit of herself was called back from the hazy place her common sense had wandered off to. Sarah narrowed her eyes at what she could see of Jareth's head.

That rotten little cheat; he was just after more time!

Anger and the bizarre desire that he had sparked within her began to swirl together. She cursed, knowing that extreme emotion of any sort would cloud her judgment; she needed to think clearly, to find out why he was after more time. He seemed to sense the change in her mood, because just as she was getting ready to struggle again he tightened his hold on her. With a growl Sarah tried struggling anyway, but it only made him chuckle.

"Now, now, dear," he crooned in amusement, "we can't have you running off just when things are starting to get interesting." He had pulled back enough that she could see the wicked intent in his eyes, but try as she might she couldn't get away. With a move that no human eye would have been able to detect, Jareth pressed his lips against Sarah's in an insistent kiss.

Her world exploded.

Maybe it was just the fact that she had never been truly satisfied with the boys she had dated in the past, or perhaps it was simply because Jareth was a creature of magic, but something about the kiss wasn't… natural. Every last molecule in her body seemed to speed up, to tune itself in to what he was doing. Shocks so strong they were nearly painful, chased through her very being. For a moment something stirred within her, something wild and powerful, something that had nothing to do with desire. He moved closer, if that were even possible, and one of his hands drifted down from her waist to cup her ass. She felt him smile into the kiss at her surprised gasp. Whatever that something was, it was starting to burn. Maybe it was desire?

No, because no matter how much she was enjoying his attentions, she was also panicking. Sarah could practically feel the coherent pieces of her mind slipping back into the dark recesses from which they had escaped. And what would happen then? She would agree, that's what, blindly and without having thought anything through.

His lips finally left hers for some air, and she took the chance to struggle again. It was still as ineffective as before and he was still highly amused. "And where do you think you're going?" he whispered while moving in for another kiss.

"No, stop! You have to let me think," she pleaded. "Please Jareth, I need to think!" And all at once Sarah found herself in a heap on the floor, her warm and solid support having fled to the other side of the room.

She looked up at him in amazement. Jareth was frowning, though he didn't seem completely displeased. He was leaning against the vanity table again, looking calm and poised as ever. The only clue that he had just been feeling her up and participating in an almost one-sided make-out session was the faint flush that tinted his cheeks and the hunger that still burned in his eyes.

"_That_ was a dirty trick," he commented lightly while straightening his jacket.

Sarah got to her feet shakily, and frowned at him. "What are you talking about? I seem to remember _you_ being the one employing tricks," she replied, giving him a dirty look.

He gave her a lascivious wink, "You enjoyed every second of it." Before she could make any wild protestations, he moved on, "You used my name; that's a low blow, Sarah."

"I don't understand," she furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

"You really don't know?" Jareth studied her for a minute, making her squirm under his intense gaze. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," he answered himself. "To possess the name is to possess the Fae, and it is not a gift lightly given, or often," he explained with a sigh.

"Then why have you never listened to me before?" she asked, subtly trying to use the door for support.

"Because you never used my name before, and it was not, technically, a gift that was freely given in the first place," he looked as though he were restraining himself from rubbing his temples.

She frowned for a moment. 'That's right,' she realized. Jareth had never spoken his own name; she had learned it from Hoggle. "So what now?" she asked, wondering if they had reached an impasse.

He turned his attention away from her and began to study the ceiling. "Now you get your time to think, just as you asked," his tone was no where near resentful, even though hers would have been had their positions been switched.

_

* * *

Jareth had gotten carried away; he hadn't meant to move so far so fast. Still, he couldn't honestly say that he regretted any of it. He could still taste her on his lips, he decided with a quick flick of his tongue. She was delicious, like stardust and moonlight. Human or not, there was magic in that body. He had felt it, tried to coax it to the fore, which was probably what had frightened her so suddenly. So much untapped power breaking through the locks that she had unwittingly created would have been an intense feeling. But the sooner that magic was free, the quicker her transformation Underground could develop. Still, he hadn't expected it to latch onto him so thoroughly. It would be a miracle if something of himself didn't begin to manifest in her. The melding of two magics was a sacred act, and something he hadn't meant to do. There would always be something about her now that felt of him, just as there would always be a part of her buried deep in his own power._

_This was certainly an unanticipated twist, one that brought him infinitely closer to Sarah. He applauded himself for the fact that he had managed to resist marking her properly; it had been an awful temptation, what with her being wrapped around him in both the physical and mental sense._

_Jareth watched her mulling things over from the corner of his eye. His terms were unreasonable to her, and now that she knew she had at least some sort of power over him she really didn't have any reason to agree. He could only hope that her curiosity would get the better of her, as it usually did. That, and the lack of knowledge she possessed about how far her whims over him truly extended. Folly though it may prove to be, he trusted that her compassionate nature would prevent her from retaliating against him._

_Sarah pushed away from door and began to pace. What he wouldn't give to know exactly what she was thinking. She was conflicted, that was all he could feel. He knew that she would never agree of her own free will, the price was too high for her, but perhaps she would be willing to bargain? By the Stars, he _prayed_ she was willing to bargain! It wouldn't be exactly what he had hoped for, but a compromise was better than nothing._

_Sarah finally seemed to reach a decision, and Jareth held his breath as he waited for her verdict. "I'm willing to count only _half_ the time spent Aboveground if you agree to give me a few explanations," she offered, crossing her arms._

_He considered; it was more generous than he had expected of her, still, "How many explanations?" Best not to give away too much, he thought while suppressing a grin._

_Sarah frowned. "Do we have to put a number on it?"_

"_I'm not giving you an infinite amount of information in return for only half of what I asked," Jareth replied, grinning at her audacity. Only this woman would think to try and swindle a Fae. _

_She thought for a moment. "One explanation for every half hour; we'll balance each other out. This way you won't feel overly compelled to spend too much time with me and I won't be getting any more out of this deal than you make of it."_

_It was logical, but it also had a touch of Fae reasoning to it. He could prevent her from getting more information than he wanted to give her, but in doing so he would have to forfeit his own time. Such a clever little creature! Jareth suppressed a laugh; for so long he had been looking for a challenge and now that he had one he was practically delirious in his euphoria. Matching wits with Sarah just got better and better as they learned to anticipate each other's moves._

"_Well?" she interrupted his thoughts._

"_You win this time, pretty one," he chuckled._

"_You agree to continue pretending to be my boyfriend, then?" Sarah pressed. Not that he could blame her, he hadn't exactly proven himself to be trustworthy. _

"_Would you like it in writing?" Jareth mocked, eyes darting to where her sweatshirt covered his tattoo._

_She blanched, "No, I think I've had more than enough of contracts where you are concerned."_

_This time he finally let the laugh out. "You're learning," he nodded with pride, "it's slow progress, but you are learning."_

* * *

A/N: I got such a huge response to the last chapter that I decided to get this one done super-fast as a thank you. That, and I really had nothing to do today…

For anyone who is wondering, the tattoo is not the same as the marking that Jareth was thinking about earlier. That would be the more traditional fae mark, which we will discuss eventually.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially Sonata IX (sorry about the head exploding, I really just can't help myself), Solea (please don't fling anymore food o.O), and MaitressedeSeine (glad I could brighten your day, lady!).

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came from the movie Labyrinth. Everything else came from me or folklore.


	21. Sarah's Luck

Chapter Twenty-One: Sarah's Luck.

Very few things in life had the amazing capacity to confound Sarah as thoroughly as Jareth did. He was cunning and controlled and, above all, he knew his opponent well. The man knew (or at least claimed to know) what her dreams were made of, and if that wasn't a reflection of the soul then she didn't know what was. It wasn't fair, because when it came right down to it, Sarah knew next to nothing about the Fae lounging on the opposite side of the coffee table. He wasn't to be trusted or taken at face value either, but what else? She didn't know, and it terrified her. In the end, she had absolutely no idea why he was doing any of this at all. She couldn't rule out the possibility of revenge, but then, she couldn't support it either. There were better ways to make someone suffer for their victory; of course, given her general amount of discomfort over everything that had happened, there probably weren't many other ways that would be as entertaining for him.

Jareth's eyes flashed like blue flames, content arrogance radiating from his every move. "Pay up," that decadent voice said in a tone that was quiet, but carried to her ears all the same.

"No; I still think you're cheating!" Sarah glared at him. It was true that the Goblin King was damn easy on the eyes, but when every line of his face conveyed a growing ego she just wanted to slap him.

"Don't be silly. We both played fairly and you lost. Now pay up," he said in amusement, but there was also an undercurrent of command in his statement; he would not be robbed of his prize.

She huffed and glowered, but she had no actual proof that he was cheating. "Fine," she growled, upset, "take it!" Jareth grinned devilishly while reaching across the table; Sarah cast a longing glance at the apple pastry that was slowly being dragged away from her. She pouted as he began to reshuffle the deck, his fingers manipulating the pasteboard court with a mastery that would have made even the most skilled con-artists envious. If she had known that he was so good at Blackjack then she wouldn't have agreed to play!

After reaching their compromise, Jareth had suggested that, for the sake of appearances, they go downstairs and continue convincing everyone they were a happy normal couple. Not wanting to face another of Karen's overeager interrogations, Sarah decided that they would play cards. It was something that a lot of people did, and would allow them to make their presence known without becoming the target of uncomfortable conversation. They had had trouble agreeing on a game, seeing as most of the ones he was familiar with she had never heard of, but Blackjack was something they both had in common. Traditionally, Sarah would only bet with cookies but Toby had finished the box off the night before, Jareth had absolutely no use for her money, and she refused to bet anything relatively important. In the end they had settled on some of the different fruit pastries that Karen had left out. Things had gone so smoothly that she should have realized something was wrong; she should have known better than to do anything he seemed so willing to participate in.

It wasn't like she was a state-champion or anything, but Sarah fancied herself a rather skilled player at cards. Well, if she was skilled then he was a master. She had won the third hand and no more, as testified by the small collection of bite-sized desserts on Jareth's side of the coffee table.

"Don't pout Sarah. You're not doing _that_ badly," he commented after he had finished dealing. The sincerity of his statement was completely ruined by the fact that he was still smiling, rather too widely if you asked her.

"One out of ten games, Jareth. Yeah, I'm really giving you a run for your money," she bit out sarcastically.

"Your luck is hardly his fault Sarah. Now don't be a sore looser," Karen put in from the sofa, where she had been watching them from behind a magazine for the past half hour.

_

* * *

Jareth snickered. How wrong that woman was! True, he wasn't manipulating the cards in the slightest; he had determined to leave that up to simple chance, so Sarah's losses were her own. The rest of her luck, however, had quite a bit to do with him. He would relish the day when it had a lot more to do with him, but until then he would content himself with the dance that their social interaction had become. There was simply no end to the subtle ways that they could outmaneuver each other. He would win when it all came to a finish, but she was most certainly a worthy opponent._

_Sarah growled as she lost another hand and Jareth decided that he loved it; such an angry and bestial sound coming out of those sweet rosy lips made him burn. It wasn't a noise that tiny human females should have been able to make; it was guttural, restless, animalistic. It was him. _

_How long before she noticed that her capabilities were beginning to stretch beyond the norm? A slight change in her vocal powers was hardly something that would make itself readily apparent but still, if the Karen-creature's shocked glance was anything to go by, it wasn't entirely subtly either. _

_Sarah gathered the cards and began to angrily (and ineptly) shuffle the deck. "We're switching games," she commanded, frowning at what was left of her own pastry stash. _

_Jareth smiled and shook his head slightly. He would indulge the childish behavior for now, she was simply too adorable when she was frustrated, but he would have to teach her how to accept defeat with grace later on. For him it was refreshing to be confronted with such genuine emotion, however raw, but there was a chance that others would see it as a most unbecoming trait, and that simply wouldn't do. _

"_Ah. What are we playing now then, dearest?" he asked, emphasizing the endearment just to bother her, knowing she couldn't say anything with her stepmother in the room. She had avoided discussing the kiss with him so far, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Sarah tried to lay down some ground rules. He suppressed a smirk; she was going to have to say something eventually because, whether she liked it or not, couples had a tendency to get at least mildly physical, even in public. Royalty be damned, there was simply no way that he was going to pass up the opportunity to learn Sarah more intimately, not when it was finally within his rights to do so (however shady those rights may currently be)._

_She gave him a look. Not quite a glare, he noted; perhaps they were making progress. "War. That way we'll probably end the game before either of us wins, and I'll be able to eat some of these pastries before you steal them all." _

"_I didn't steal a single one," he reminded her as she began to deal, "I won them fair and square." _

_From the sofa, Karen laughed. "You two already sound like a married couple."_

* * *

No one ever finished a game of War; no one except Jareth, apparently. Still, she had managed to eat most of what she had had left before the game was over. So all in all, it hadn't been a total loss. There had been some nice dessert, and Karen now seemed to think they were the perfect couple. It still worried her how much her family was taken with him, seeing as it would simply complicate things when he ran out of time, but she had resolutely told herself not to think about it. She would just have to take things as they came, because trying to plan anything was completely fruitless and would probably drive her insane.

They had finally drifted away from cards before Jareth had politely informed everyone that he had to leave. It was, and was not, a relief. He had behaved, and now she had at least one explanation that she could ask for. She should have felt relaxed knowing that a little more of her time had been paid back and, at present, she was delightfully alone. But for how long?

It made her uneasy.

He could come back. After all, Jareth didn't have to play by the rules of a normal boyfriend, not if he didn't want to.

Sarah shifted in front of her vanity, gazing at her reflection, trying to organize her thoughts. There was something else that was making her uneasy.

Until that moment, her brain had put off thinking about the kiss. Everything had just happened so fast… Well, she had jumped at his suggestion to go downstairs for more than just the sake of appearances. If she kept her mind busy with something else, with being a believable couple, then it couldn't focus on that one event until it had recovered enough to make sense of any of it.

Sarah hadn't recovered enough, that was the only explanation. Just thinking about the way his lips had brushed against hers, gently at first and then more persistently once he had gotten a taste, made her blush. Or the way his teeth had delicately scraped across her neck, it made her want to melt, even now, nearly an hour later. It hadn't been natural; she had been kissed before and it had never felt that overwhelming. And that's what it had been, overwhelming; like something within her had been straining to break free. Through some unknown force of will she had managed to stay still but, _dear god_, how she had wanted to run her hands through his hair, to have parted her lips and deepened the kiss, to really know what if felt like to be consumed by him.

She still did.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I do realize that eased you down before building you back up a bit. That wasn't truly my intension, but I can't honestly say I'm sorry. I wanted to make this longer, but I've run out of time so you'll all have to wait for the next chapter. Just as a heads up, I have two research papers to write by March 8th/9th, so Chapter 22 might be a bit delayed. But after that is Spring Break, so I'll try to make it up to you all.

Thank you so much for the reviews! It never ceases to amaze me what wonderful praise and encouragement you're all giving me. Still, if I'm doing something wrong, tell me! Extra special thanks to everyone who said last chapter was yummy, it was the first time I've written about a kiss so the kind words were greatly appreciated.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came from the movie Labyrinth. Any similarity between this and other stories is purely coincidental, and not meant in any harmful way whatsoever.


	22. Frustration

Chapter Twenty-Two: Frustration.

_The walls still stood high, but they were empty now. The paths still twisted, but they were becoming predictable. The web of power was still there, but it was inattentive. _

_He had known the price of his decision, but facing the now-dulled countenance of his Labyrinth made him rethink. Was it worth it? Perhaps he was being impatient; after all, Sarah's time would still be there for him to collect in a month. But he had needed to get out of The Court, couldn't have waited any longer to draw closer to the object of a 19 year obsession. And this had been the price._

_From the sand-swept hill just on the edge of the gates, the Labyrinth spread out before him. A week ago it had been a terrible beast, something for mortals to fear and ultimately fail. Now it was no more than a sleeping threat; the magic that held it all together was waning._

_It couldn't be helped, Jareth decided. This was the price of his arrangements, and he would pay the debt in full. Besides, it was only temporary. Whatever solution his relationship with Sarah saw itself to couldn't span any more than the time she had to give back. After that it would all be up to her and no matter what she chose, the Labyrinth would not suffer the absence of his master any longer than necessary. _

_Jareth frowned. It may have been his choice to let this happen, but the fading glamour was still distressing. With only a slight pause, he reached out with his senses and quietly touched the stone of his fortress. A shiver ran down his spine when an empty coldness flooded his being. The magic wasn't completely gone, but it was fading fast. He could let it exhaust what strength it had left and simply revitalize it when things had settled down, or he could help sustain it._

_It wasn't a life or death decision. The Labyrinth would not come to ruin if he left it alone for a while. No, this was a matter of pride. Was he willing to let his greatest work fall into disrepair while he went off gallivanting with Sarah? There was no question as to whether he would be able to revive it when everything was said and done; the answer was simply yes. He had given it life in the first place, and so he could give it life anew. But would he be able to live with the image of those magnificent walls made ashen by neglect?_

_With a sigh, Jareth closed his eyes. It was a matter of pride._

* * *

It was a thought that had shaken her to the core; she had enjoyed that kiss. Its simplicity, its impact, she wanted to feel it again.

But how did she feel about Jareth?

On a purely physical level, Sarah knew that the Goblin King excited her; he was wild and beautiful, exotic like no man she had ever seen. There was just something about the way he carried himself that was hard _not_ to find attractive. But on an emotional level…

He was cruel and dangerous, but he was also playful and charming when he wasn't being an ass. Though she had lost nearly ever hand, playing cards with him hadn't been nearly as bad as she had made it out to be. For the first time since she had met him, she had actually felt relaxed in his presence. But then, the only reason that they had been playing cards at all was because he was collecting some debt from her.

Jareth was a walking contradiction; cold and callous one minute, then warm and laughing the next. It was impossible to reconcile what she knew about him. He stole children, but then he also seemed to care about his subjects; he tormented her, but then he also gave her the adventure that she had always craved from life. What did he truly want from her?

'_I ask for so little…'_

The thought surfaced from the back of her mind, causing her to shiver. That was another thing she wasn't sure about where Jareth was concerned. He had loved her, but did he still? Was he a jilted admirer out for some payback, or was he simply a persistent man endeavoring to open her eyes?

'Does the answer even matter?' Sarah thought with a frown. 'Will it change my opinion, either way?' Yes, it would; she knew it would. It hadn't been a conscious decision, but knowing what he had been trying to say just before his defeat had guided her actions today. He held affection for her, and without that she greatly doubted she would have been able to sit around and pretend to be dating her brother's kidnapper.

Sarah's frown grew deeper. If he was out for revenge then she would be able to fight. But how could she learn his intensions? And what if he wasn't out to get her; how was she supposed to rage against someone who held nothing but love for her?

_

* * *

He had been standing on the hill for nearly an hour, slowly feeding his Labyrinth with small bits of strength. It wasn't exactly work that would deplete his magic but it was exhaustive, all the same._

_Beside him the air rippled, and a young man appeared. 'Ah,' Jareth thought, 'the prince, of course.' One more thing to deal with on his ever growing 'to do' list._

"_You're looking tired," the young mortal prince commented._

_Jareth didn't open his eyes, just continued sending tiny bursts of power to the places that needed them most. "I'm busy, boy. Don't bother me." The hedge maze grew a little greener._

_The boy frowned, flipping blonde hair out of brown eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked with a sigh. "You're not usually this short with me."_

"_I'm spread thin, child; doing a few too many things at once." The gates regained some of their glittery appearance. "I've got a kingdom to run, a Labyrinth to maintain, and a woman to court. Forgive me if I'm not simply falling over myself with energy," the King bit out sarcastically._

_The prince tried to stifle a smile, "You've found a woman, then?"_

"_As well you know," Jareth growled. With a threat he added, "And if anyone catches wind of it, I'll know exactly who to blame." The paving stones straightened themselves out, becoming slightly more level._

_It didn't exactly worry Jareth that the boy knew about his romantic interests, considering that he couldn't be sure if it was Sarah or not. It was one of the benefits to running a structure like the Labyrinth; no one ever questioned why he went Aboveground._

_The boy gave him a considering look, as if trying to puzzle something out. "That wasn't you in Court today, was it?" He hadn't counted on anyone being able to tell the difference, but he should have known better; he had practically raised the man standing next to him, the only ones that would know better than him would be the King's own family._

_The King allowed his senses to retreat back into himself. For a moment he did nothing but breath, trying to reorient; he was made of flesh, not earth and stone. Slowly he turned to the boy, opening eyes that were ancient and full of regret. "No," Jareth whispered, "it wasn't me," he paused, "and yet, it was. My kingdom should always come first and so I regret having missed an opportunity to guide my people; however I was not as absent as you may believe. Whatever decisions that were made in that room were my own, regardless of whether I was there or not."_

"_I don't understand," the prince said, brow furrowed._

"_You don't have to. Simply know that I do not leave the fate of this kingdom up to chance."_

"_But you speak as though you were there while acknowledging the fact that you weren't!"_

"_Drop it, boy," Jareth barked. "I'm tired. Perhaps I shall explain it to you when things are not so difficult." He watched as the boy walked off in a huff, looking a bit wounded. 'I have neither the time nor patients to dance around a young man's ego,' the King reminded himself, staving off the guilt. It wasn't as though he had been aiming to be short, but he had too much to do right now. 'First and foremost,' he thought while dragging a hand over tired eyes, 'is to get some bloody sleep.'_

* * *

It all came down, Sarah decided, to the fact that she simply didn't know enough about who Jareth was. Without him around she couldn't change that fact, but she could try to find out _what_ he was on her own. Fairytale creatures had always held a fascination for her, but that wasn't to say she truly knew anything about them. A little studying was in order.

The library had been a bust. It was usually such a wealth of knowledge for her that Sarah had almost felt betrayed at its lack of acquiescence. Every book that had sounded like a good place to start her work had been taken off the shelf or was already checked out. Feeling at a bit of a loss, she had wandered out the doors, not really knowing where to go. The bookstores in town were nice but ultra-modern; it was unlikely that they would have anything useful. But still, it was worth a shot.

In retrospect, the bookstore had been more helpful than Sarah had expected. There was no guarantee that the books she had purchased were accurate, but it would be interesting reading, either way.

_

* * *

He tossed, trying to fall back into the wonderful sleep that he had been having. But no, something was wrong. Jareth was having trouble ignoring the summons that he could feel pulling at the corners of his mind._

"_Give it up Sarah," he muttered into the darkened room, as though she could hear him. "What ever it is can wait until I've rested." He was going to have to tell her about the link soon so that he could teach her how to control it. The more time he spent in tune with her desires, the harder it was for him to block them out. Simply put, if she didn't learn to curb herself, then Jareth was never going to get any sleep._

* * *

Sarah growled as she was forced to stifle another yawn.

Her research had started out so well, but it seemed that the more she read the more frustrated she became. The books were good, fascinating really, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was all the wrong information. Sarah was frustrated beyond belief; she couldn't get rid of the damn feeling, and for some reason she was yawning every two minutes. 'Why the hell am I yawning so much? I'm not even tired!' she thought, while resisting the urge to slam her book on the vanity table.

_

* * *

He was almost back to sleep when the impulse to hurl something across the room hit him._

"_I'm going to give you merry hell for this, woman," Jareth growled into his pillow. For a moment he entertained the idea of locking Sarah in his sitting room where she wouldn't be able to cause any trouble, but dismissed it with a snort. She would always cause trouble, location would not change the strength of her calling, and if she were truly in any part of his chambers then sleeping would be the last thing on his mind._

_Still, he grinned, the plan did have merit._

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter wasn't terribly exciting, but it was very important. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. (For those of you who don't remember the prince, go back to chapter 7.)

I was accosted by my very persistent muse while out on one of my walks today. So I wrote 22 to exorcise my demon. I have no idea when 23 will be out; I spent the time that I should have been preparing for my English exam doing this… I'm a slave to my work.

A very heartfelt thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came from the movie Labyrinth, nor am I making any money off of this.


	23. Let's Set The Record Straight

Chapter Twenty-Three: Let's Set The Record Straight.

_The room was dark and silent. Nothing moved, save for the gentle rise and fall of Jareth's chest. The King rolled over slightly and began to dream._

_In the corner of the room something shifted. _

_In the corner of the room something stifled a scream._

* * *

She was dreaming; she had to be. There was no other way to explain what was happening. A moment ago Sarah had been staring at her book dejectedly; she had been upset by the realization that she had no way to separate fact from fiction. Now she was… in a very dark room.

Thick curtains were pulled over two massive windows, blocking all light from entering. The room itself was large and, from what she could tell, tastefully decorated in dark wood furniture. A fireplace stood cold and empty to her left, directly behind a desk. In the center of the room there were several chairs and a few loveseats scattered about, and possibly either cabinets or end tables. To her right was an open archway that led to a room beyond. With hesitant steps Sarah ventured on. If she had thought that the other room was dark, it was nothing compared to this one. The gloom seemed to accumulate in pockets, sneaking around and congregating in corners. With a nervous jolt Sarah realized that what she had thought was just one massive patch of shadow was, in fact, an extremely large bed.

A lump formed in her throat. 'I don't want to look,' she told herself firmly. 'I don't, because chances are that isn't an empty bed.' But somewhere along the way, the command to stop moving must have gotten lost because her feet were still inching themselves forward. She cursed angrily at her own stubborn curiosity as she drew level with the bed.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips.

Pale limbs peaked out from under dark bed sheets, presenting tantalizing hints of the body that lay beneath. Sarah brought her hands up to cover her eyes, but even through her fingers she could still make out the lithe chest that laid bare before her. Twisted to one side was the ever-present amulet, its' curved design glinting against the cloth it rested upon. She made an effort to draw her fingers closer together but she could still see the way his chest slowly moved from breathing, still see how the action pulled the sheet against his form before releasing it to wrinkle as it saw fit. Her eyes slid upward for a moment and she studied his face. She had always heard that people seemed different in their sleep, more peaceful or innocent, so she was amazed at how different Jareth _didn't_ look. His hair was still wild and pale, framing a face that was still angular and, despite all probability, haughty. It was incredible how even in sleep he could convey arrogance.

He moved slightly and Sarah prayed that it was in dreaming rather than waking up. She had no idea how she had gotten into his room, but had no desire to be caught ogling his unconscious form.

'Oh god,' she realized, 'I'm in a man's bedroom, in an alternate dimension, and I have no way of getting home until he wakes up.' No matter what, she was going to be caught because she couldn't leave. With mounting panic Sarah took several steps back and fell heavily across the seat of a chair that she hadn't noticed before. 'This can't be happening,' she thought with horror, 'I'm supposed to be remaining emotionally distant and instead I'm pretending to date him, I go to pieces when he kisses me, and now I'm checking him out while he's sleeping!' A slight movement broke her mental chaos and she looked up just in time to meet laughing, if somewhat tired, blue eyes.

"_Really_, Sarah. Don't you think it indecent to be sneaking into a man's bedroom after only the first date?" Jareth's voice was quiet but she could hear the restrained laughter.

She let out a groan. "There was no sneaking involved. One minute I was reading something in my room, the next I was here."

"Ah, so you came here with confidence using hereto undiscovered powers of trans-dimensional teleportation," his eyes glimmered in the darkness like those of a wolf.

"I didn't do this!" she protested loudly.

"Of course," he plowed on in good humor, "I understand how much of a temptation it can be for women to spend quality time with their suitors, and I'm more than willing to accommodate." He had laid his head back down upon one of many pillows, but she could still make out his wicked grin.

"Get your mind out of the gutter and send me home," Sarah growled out from between clenched teeth.

_

* * *

Jareth had been tempted to curse a blue streak when he was jolted out of sleep yet again, but the sight that greeted him withered the words before they could leave his mouth. Sarah was sitting across a chair in the middle of his room, looking confused and agitated._

_One hand was slowly creeping its way up to lay over her eyes while the other remained clenched at her side. She moved her fingers enough to glare at him. "Are you going to send me home or not?"_

There_ was an interesting question and one that should never be left up to a man to decide, Jareth thought with a chuckle. He stretched a little, before answering, "I believe I shall go with the 'or not' for now."_

* * *

Sarah gaped at him. Jareth was… flirting with her? Not that she had any sort of frame of reference (unless you counted the Crystal Ballroom which she was making a point of trying to forget), but he was definitely being suggestive. Feeling at something of a loss, she tried again, "Just let me leave."

A hand rose from the nest of sheets and waived dismissively. "You are free to leave any time you wish, Sarah. Far be it from me to prevent you from making your exit," he was flippant and made quiet by the fact that his voice was being muffled into a pillow.

"How gracious of you," she bit out sarcastically. "However, _you_ happen to be the one with the magical powers here."

Jareth lifted his head lazily for a moment. "Then I suppose you'll just have to wait until I'm better rested." He flopped back down, thumping audibly against his pillow. For a moment one of his hands fiddled with the amulet, untwisting it before he chocked himself, then patted the mattress to his left. "As long as you're staying-"

Sarah cut him off. "I really don't want to hear the rest of that sentence." If she heard the end of it then her mind would wander and she was desperately clinging to her idea of distance.

"You fight so much Sarah," came his quiet whisper.

"No," she protested, "I fight just the right amount! Let's get something straight here, Jareth; we may be dating when other people are around, but in private we are strangers."

In the blink of an eye, Jareth was up and out of bed. He strode forward a few paces, and it was with great relief that she noted he was wearing pants; pants that clung to him in indecent ways, but clothing nonetheless. Quickly she dragged her eyes back up to his face and was met with a fierce blue stare. His gliding steps brought him before her in no time and he stood tall, towering in front of her seated frame.

"Strangers?" He leaned down, laying a hand on either armrest, effectively trapping her against the chair. "Oh no, dearest."

She looked from one hand to the other then tried to press herself further away. With not just a bit of panic Sarah realized that this wasn't going as she had hoped. All she had wanted to do was lay down some rules, but apparently she had incited something. Her breathing hitched for a moment as she remembered the last time they had been this close. Vital thought processes had shut down last time, and she still hadn't recovered enough to fully accept the reality of what had happened, let alone to face it again. "Jareth," she began, lifting a hand to press against his shoulder.

"_No_," he interrupted firmly, catching her hand with one of his own. "You want to get something straight about you and I; then by all means, let's." His hand brought hers down to the armrest and laid it there, pressing her gently into the fabric. "You can pretend whatever that adorable little head of yours wants," Jareth leaned forward a little farther, bringing his face closer to her own, "but that won't change what's real." Uneven eyes studied her, making her squirm. "We are anything but strangers, Sarah" he whispered before ghosting his lips over her tightly shut eyes.

* * *

A/N: I like this chapter, but I'm not entirely satisfied with the way it came out. What did you all think? (By the way, I went back through the story and did some light editing, so if you still notice any mistakes then please tell me.)

I seem to have offended a few people… and while I'm not entirely certain how, I would like to offer my sincerest of apologies. It was never my intension to step on anyone's toes. I'm sorry.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the movie Labyrinth. Just having a bit of fun.


	24. Strangers When We Meet?

Chapter Twenty-Four: Strangers When We Meet?

_They weren't strangers. They _weren't!

_Jareth had witnessed nearly every event in her life, had even been the cause of many of them; he had watched her go through the motions of daily living, had watched how her routines slowly changed from that of a child to a young woman. He had lamented and raged when she went out on her occasional dates; had watched her while she drifted through the misty lands of dreams and _known_, felt with every fiber of his being, that something deep ran between them. They weren't strangers. Nineteen years of observation had gotten them to where they were._

_Jareth frowned. 'No,' he realized; nineteen years of observation had gotten _him_ to where he was and, truth be told, it was little better than frantically obsessed. Sarah didn't know him; she had vague impressions, a few ideas at best, but when it came right down to it he was, in fact, a stranger to her. Probably about as strange as they came in her opinion. _

_But that didn't give her the right to say it out loud like that and while, in her mind, it might have been true, he refused to accept it. There were a lot of things that Jareth was willing to overlook where Sarah was concerned but this time he had to put his foot down. If he conceded, allowed her to go on with her idea of strangerhood, she would use it as a shield, a way to distance herself from him whenever they were alone. He would not allow it, could not allow it if he intended to come out of this situation in relatively the same state of sanity as he had come in. And if that meant that he had to be pigheaded and make half-false statements, the so be it. Sarah was not escaping _this_ time._

* * *

Sarah fidgeted slightly. Jareth was still leaning over her, so close that she could feel his breath fanning over her cheeks, but his eyes had gone curiously blank, as though his mind were a million miles away. 

"Uh," she began uncertainly, briefly wondering if it was better to let him snap out of it on his own, like a sleepwalker. "Jareth?" No response. She tried moving her hand, but even in a gentle grip she still could not break free of his hold. He barely even flinched for her trouble.

_

* * *

It was a situation that would have to rectified, he thought. Jareth had been forcefully romantic during their encounter four years ago and it really hadn't done him any good, might have even pushed her away in the end. She hadn't been able to understand him because to the human mind love and trickery did not go hand in hand. He needed her trust, or else things would end just as disastrously as they had last time. It would require patients on his part, something that he had precious little of these days, because while attraction would draw her to him, it was trust that would willingly keep her by his side. He already had the perfect set up; he was, after all, her 'boyfriend'. All he needed to do was use that time wisely, open up to her and let Sarah learn about the man that he was. It was a foreign concept with him, but he realized that truth would get him a lot farther with her than his usual tricks and vague answers. _

_To ensnare a human you had to think like a human. Jareth had the time and the opportunity to lay the foundation for a lasting relationship, all it would take was some self-control. He couldn't completely court her in the ways that were traditional to his own people, so he would have to combine it with ways that were more accepted to hers. The first steps had already been taken: he had established his role as Sarah's leading suitor and won the favour of her family. That would put some pressure on her, if for no other reason than keeping up appearances and, hopefully, with time she would want to learn more about him for reasons other than the sake of her family. Their relationship was tenuous, at best; they stood on the fine edge of a knife, one false step could separate them permanently, beyond even Jareth's power to mend. _

* * *

"Earth to Jareth, come in Jareth," Sarah said, her voice just on the verge of being a shout. She was temped to swing her feet up against his chest and push with all her might, but figured that his dignity would not allow him to suffer the humiliation of being knocked ass-over-teakettle by a girl, at least, not without any sort of retribution. 

With a jolt he started back into reality, eyes blinking slowly and fading from blankness to calm determination. He released her with a measured slowness, nimble fingers tenderly tucking a lock of her hair behind an ear as he straightened up, and quietly backed away. Careful, even steps brought him back to the edge of his bed where he sat down in a way that was both graceful and practiced, yet still somehow reminiscent of a little boy flopping onto his mattress. Out of absolutely nowhere, he produced a darkly colored shirt which he slipped into but did not bother to button up.

Jareth fixed her with a contemplative stare. "It occurs to me that I have been… unduly forward, perhaps even rude," he said, apparently by way of apology.

Sarah stared at him as though he had grown another head. 'Since when did he care about propriety?' she wondered agitatedly; he certainly hadn't seemed all that concerned about being forward when instigating the lip-lock earlier that very morning. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Who are you? Only, I thought I was talking to the Goblin King."

He let out a laugh like a great silver bell: clear, carrying, and intrinsically harmonic. "I am Jareth, son of Oran the Brash," he said proudly.

'How apt,' she laughed humorlessly, 'like father like son, I suppose.' Out loud she responded, "Oh, I get it; you're schizophrenic, right? Split personalities and all that. Well, I have no idea which Jareth I'm talking to right now, but I'd be much obliged if he'd tell me what the hell is going on."

"There's no need to be so caustic Sarah, that's my job," he replied with a twitching smile. "I disagree with your statement that we are naught but strangers; it did, however, make me realize that I have been somewhat cavalier towards you as of late. It was unseemly of me and I apologize."

She studied him for a minute. His words sounded sincere enough but there was something about his bearing that just didn't match up. "You don't regret a damn thing, do you?" Sarah asked with a shake of her head.

"Makes an apology seem somewhat insincere, doesn't it?" Jareth commented dryly. "No, I don't regret anything Sarah. I may not always handle a situation appropriately but I can't honestly say that I haven't enjoyed the outcomes of these little meetings of ours."

Her mind briefly supplied the memory of firm lips over her own, and Jareth smirked as though he knew _exactly_ where her thoughts had wandered to. "Okay, so you've apologized at _absolute_ face value… now what?" she asked, uncertain of where this left them.

"I believe you wanted to get a handle on the situation by laying out a few rules," he suggested with a shrug. Which meant nothing had really changed between them, except that Jareth was being slightly more amiable.

'Ground rules,' she mused. She had come up with some, really good ones too, but Jareth's increasingly ephemeral moods around her had made her forget most of them.

"No more touching than absolutely necessary," Sarah stated at length. "I'll grant that there will have to be some kind of contact between us from time to time if we want to look like a believable couple, but I don't need my family thinking that I'm desperate for some action and I'm not comfortable with the idea of being publicly groped by a man that I barely know." She thought for a minute more. "And if you ever grab my ass again," she said menacingly, thinking about when his hands had slipped rather lower than proper during their kiss, "I will slap you silly."

Jareth chuckled, but nodded his head in what she hoped was acquiescence. "And?" he questioned after a brief pause.

"And I can't remember the rest of them, but I'll get back to you when I do," Sarah replied.

_

* * *

She was conflicted, he realized, curious as to what could happen. The only demand that she had ventured to make was one that any self-respecting woman would have; after all, no one wanted to feel like a plaything. Sarah was taking steps to ensure that she wouldn't be used, but beyond that she had nothing to add. Somewhere, deep down, she wanted to know what sort of relationship they could forge; she hadn't forgotten her rules, she had set them aside in order to see if she could trust him. _

"_Fair enough," he conceded. "Now, you'll have to help me a little, Sarah," Jareth said after a minute or two, "I am better versed in your culture than others of my kind, but I do not know everything. Tell me, how does a suitor usually act among your people?" He knew well enough that her answer wouldn't truly matter, there was no way that you change thousands of years worth of stubborn instinct, but at least it would let her know that he was open to suggestion, that he would listen to her even when the answer was generally irrelevant._

* * *

Sarah heaved a sigh. She didn't want him to know how suitors, as he put it, usually acted because that would go against the one rule she had laid out. "Just make it up as we go along," she offered instead. _

* * *

Jareth fought a smile. Apparently Sarah knew just as well as he did when an answer was irrelevant, even if it was for different reasons. _

* * *

A/N: Not exactly what I was aiming for, but along the same general lines. And look, no massive cliffhanger! 

Many, _many_ thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter; it broke a record for this story: 23 reviews for a single post! I'm deeply flattered. An extra special thank you to Mistress Eden who has graciously archived this story at her website (which you should all go visit (the link is in her profile); there are many wonderful things to read there), to Venus Smurf and Darklady26 for leaving quite possibly the longest two reviews I have ever recieved and seriously brightening my week, and (as ever) to MaitressedeSeine for being so adament about the depth of my skills.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I'm making nothing off of this story, and I don't own any of the characters from Labyrinth.


	25. A Cautious Sort of Truth

Chapter Twenty-Five: A Cautious Sort of Truth.

Back home Sarah's room was probably dark, lit only by the moonlight spilling through her uncovered window. Toby was probably in the room right next to hers, ready to come get her any minute so she would tell him a story for the night. Karen might have even been walking up the stairs to return some laundry, or her father could have been knocking on her door to ask an arbitrary question. When that door was opened they would all see the same thing: an empty room, conspicuously devoid of Sarah. Even with the knowledge that bad conclusions would be jumped to or someone would become hysterical, she wasn't entirely ready to leave Jareth's darkened room. There was still the matter of how she had gotten there in the first place, and she had already thought up a few things that she would have liked explained. Since they had spent little over an hour Aboveground she could only ask for one explanation; it would be hard to choose which.

Jareth sat on his bed, looking calm but not guarded. Relaxed, she realized; there were always so many little games being played out between the two of them that she had rarely had the opportunity in which to see him completely at peace. He was something closer to that young man he had pretended to be in the parlor that morning, amiable and approachable. For the most part he seemed content to let her think, quietly humming a tune under his breath while she decided whether it would be better to wait until the next time they were together for her answers or not.

At length she finally asked, "How did I get here tonight?" With something of a grimace she added, "I showed up in your sitting room, and you weren't even awake when it happened."

Jareth let out a sigh and contemplated his words for a little while. "I'm not…" he trailed off, thinking for a minute more. "I'm not entirely certain," he stated, sitting up straight. "There is something between us, Sarah… a connection, if you will, and something that I promise to explain to you in the very near future." His fingers began an idle drumming at his side. "The problem is that there are other factors in this equation, ones that can't be fully calculated yet. It could have been any number of things that either one of us did," his tone was puzzled but not frustrated, as though the answer didn't really matter to him.

Sarah absorbed his words and then furrowed her brow. "You do realize that you didn't actually explain anything, right?"

Jareth chuckled. "My apologies, fair Lady. Will you permit me to try again?"

His words were antiquated but sweet, nearly making up for the fact that his idea of an explanation almost entirely failed to explain anything. "Proceed," she humored him, fairly certain his new answer would be no better than the old one.

"I don't know," he stated.

She raised a brow at that.

"I have ideas, of course," Jareth continued, "but most of them result in longwinded speeches about principles that your people have forgotten. I would rather wait until I know for certain before I haul off and give you a speed-course in magical theory; it's complicated and boring at the best of times, to someone so unused to magic it would be nothing short of exasperating," he supplied.

Sarah leaned in her chair and forced back a snort. Leave it to her to find the one night he was willing to answer questions, and manage to pick out the one thing he couldn't explain. Thinking back over what he had said, a frown came to her face. "What do you mean, we're connected?"

"You don't go for the easy questions, do you Sarah?" Jareth lamented with a shake of his head. "I promise that I will explain it to you soon so please, leave it at that. It's a delicate subject, and not something that I think we should be getting into tonight." He managed to sound firm without being patronizing.

"Fine," she pouted, while trying not to seem petulant, "but as long as we're together I want to redeem the one explanation you owe me."

"As long as it isn't clarification on something we just discussed, then ask away," he replied with a wave of his hand.

Whatever it was that he had just closed the door on was obviously something that he did not want to talk about. But then why promise to explain later? Did he need time to make something up or… 'or time to organize his thoughts because he doesn't entirely know either,' she thought with a start. It was a foreign concept, Jareth not knowing something. He had always appeared to be so in control of everything, and yet here was something that he apparently couldn't figure out.

"Sarah?" he called out after waiting for a minute, effectively bringing her back into the present.

She fidgeted slightly in her seat. "It's sort of a two-parter. Is that okay?" she asked uncertainly; he may have been amiable so far, but that didn't mean his generosity was limitless.

* * *

"_As long as you don't make a habit of it, I suppose I can make an allowance for you this time," Jareth returned imperiously, trying to goad her to react. While he was pleased to see Sarah taking his patience into consideration, it bothered him to see her so unsure of herself. It also didn't bode well as to what she was about to ask, if it was causing her to shift around so much in her chair._

_With narrowed eyes but a mostly-amused mindset, Jareth waited for her to speak._

* * *

There were a million questions that she had come up with since so much had been happening lately. It hadn't been easy deciding what to ask first, but she had realized that asking questions in the order which she had originally thought them would probably help her piece everything together. 

"Why the debt?" Sarah asked after a deep breath. "It can't be as simple as getting back thirteen hours; what do you really hope to gain from all this?"

_

* * *

No, she certainly didn't go for the easy questions, he thought with a chuckle. _

_What did he hope to gain?_

_Jareth raised his head and studied Sarah for a minute. She was trim, probably just tall enough to fit perfectly under his chin, and her body was curvaceous while still remaining petite. Emerald green eyes, more lovely than any jewels he had ever seen, complemented her fair complexion, just a hint of rosy coloring lingering around her face giving her a breathless look. Her hair, though slightly disheveled at the moment, looked as though it was made of fine black silk, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. His eyes traveled lower and he took in her attire. She was simply dressed in unfamiliar and somewhat androgynous clothing; they were rumpled and wrinkled from a day of use but still flattering and lovely. She was everything that ladies of The Court should have been but weren't: beautiful without effort, stubborn, determined, and able to hold her own in almost any situation._

_He hoped to gain many things, but mostly just Sarah's favour. _

_She wasn't ready for words of commitment, for declarations of love. Still, he owed her _something_; a cautious sort of truth, he mused to himself._

_By the look in her eye Jareth could tell that she was about to reiterate her question. "You… confuse me, Sarah," he began. "I will admit that I have known you longer than you have known me," he shot her a glance, warning her to keep her peace for now, "but never once have I truly been able to fathom your choices, your actions." He paused. "I am confounded by so much of what you do. Your mannerisms and dialect are completely foreign to me. In a way, I suppose I find it refreshing."_

"_How?" she asked confusedly. "It's sounds more frustrating to me than anything else."_

_He smiled, knowing that she was thinking of all the things about him she found strange. "You are full of life and vitality, an unstoppable force," he continued. "The women of my court, of my people, they are… uninteresting and predictable. Some of them are meek wilted flowers, afraid of me and almost every other Fae male as well. Some are bold and fiery, full of ambitions and silly ideas about climbing through the social hierarchy." Jareth met her eyes, wanting her to see the truth behind the words, hoping she would understand that he did not compliment needlessly. "You are unlike any of them. Our worlds are so different, Sarah; you do not know the extent of my power and you have no reason to covet my standing. It's like a breath of fresh air to be around someone who isn't going to carefully choose their every word, who isn't plotting how to influence, gain, or become attached to my crown."_

_Sarah looked thoughtful. He had hope that she was taking him seriously._

"_You are unlike anyone I have ever seen, which is a great compliment considering how many people I have met over the years," he continued. "You really cannot blame me for trying to spend time with you, not when you interest me so greatly."_

* * *

If Sarah took his words to be the truth, and she didn't really doubt that they were, then all he wanted was to get to know her better. Which was certainly a more agreeable prospect than revenge, she thought. It didn't truly answer whether he still loved her or not, though. Perhaps he was simply curious as to why she had turned him down in the Labyrinth? There was affection, at the very least. 

But his words… Well, it was a compliment if she had ever heard one, to be declared unique among the thousands, maybe even millions, of people that Jareth had seen. The thought alone almost made her blush; he found her more interesting than Fae women (and if they shared any qualities that he did, they must have been more beautiful than she could imagine).

"How old are you?" she asked after a minute of silence.

"Is that the second part of your question," he countered, "because if it isn't, you ought to save it for later. I would hate for you to get your questions all mixed up." It certainly wasn't a scathing comment, but sarcastic all the same; it also entirely failed to draw her attention completely away from facts about his personal life. She would find them out, sooner or later.

"No," she relented, "I wanted to know why you made me forget everything about the Labyrinth if you were just intending to come back later anyway."

"Why indeed," he seemed to murmur to himself. "Sarah, would you have relented so easily to my bargain had your memories been intact?"

She thought for a moment. "No, probably not," she replied. Truth was, she probably would have raved and fussed and then demanded to run the Labyrinth instead.

"For you to take me even the tiniest bit seriously I need for you to have distance from those events, to see them from a new angle. So many times we go through difficult trials in our lives, but never truly think upon them when they are finished and so our thoughts about them never truly change," his voice was quiet and serious; it was the voice of absolute honesty.

"So you're saying that you think in four years I would not have changed a single opinion?" She wasn't trying to start an argument, she just wasn't sure she understood entirely.

Jareth sighed. "There were so many things you were unaware of, so many things that you failed to see because of how close you were to the situation. By holding on to your memories I prevented you from blowing things out of proportion, stopped ill thoughts concerning myself from festering over time, and it also gave you a fresh perspective of everything that happened. Now you understand as a _nineteen_ year old would understand, not a _fifteen_ year old."

It was terrifying to hear such a sound argument for the tampering of her memories. What else could he do, or had already done? The thought shook her. Right now she didn't have much reason to distrust him but, then again, she didn't have too much reason not to, either. He was being honest though, and that had to count for something. There would definitely be a talk concerning the ethical use of magic powers later, but for now she was willing to let it drop.

"I don't entirely agree with your methods, but I think I understand where you're coming from," Sarah replied in a not-quite shaky voice.

_

* * *

She was rattled, he could tell, but trying to accept. It was a big step for her, taking his view into consideration. There was no way that they would meet eye-to-eye with everything, but her willingness to relent on this one was a step in the right direction. Of course, there would be yelling later; optimistic though he was, Jareth was not fool enough to believe that Sarah's stubborn nature would allow her to leave this issue alone for very long. _

_Still, he mused, it was progress._

* * *

A/N: So that was a bit longer than the last few chapters and you got a few handy explanations in. I think this is also a record for me: no huge cliffhangers two chapters in a row! Personally, I didn't entirely care for the way this came out. How did you guys find it? 

There were so many people that I wanted to thank for reviewing last chapter that I really can't put it here. I appreciate your words more than any of you could ever know. Thank you so very much!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the movie Labyrinth.


	26. Facets

Chapter Twenty-Six: Facets.

Jareth had still been reluctant to send her home, but Sarah had been insistent. There was too much that she wanted to think about to talk any further or to stick around and listen to his mildly toned-down innuendo for the rest of the night. Every time she was with him it always seemed like one new fact would come out that would force her to reevaluate her opinion of him. This time it was several facts, and they made her uneasy.

With a sigh Sarah sat down on the floor and leaned back against the side of her bed. Life was never easy and rarely ever decided to be simple, but this was… she wasn't too sure what to think at the moment. With just the slightest turn of her head she looked out the window, her eyes searching out the cold winter stars. All her life she had felt as though the stars held answers, as though they could guide and protect her. But tonight they looked worn, like the city smog had finally caught up to them; they were chocked and fading. There would be no comfort or counsel from the skies tonight; they looked as tired as she felt. Another sigh escaped her lips and she finally let her wandering thoughts turn inward, to replay the conversations that she had participated in earlier that evening.

The first thing Jareth had done that sent her reeling that night was his adamant denial that they were strangers. He had leaned in close, one arm above her shoulder while the other trapped her hand against the chair. In that moment her world had narrowed until there was nothing left but the two of them, trying to stare each other down. His lips had parted and whispered words that were full of conviction, of promise, and they had caused everything within her to shiver. Anything but strangers, he had said. Well, perhaps he was right, maybe they weren't strangers but they certainly didn't know one another.

But after those heated words he had suddenly gone blank, as though the mind had left the body. Jareth's eyes had gone dead, like the darkened windows of an empty house, but he hadn't moved an inch, as if his body had frozen in its very last action and absolutely refused to move until it received instructions to do so. Sarah had never seen someone caught that deeply in thought; it was weird to be so close to him physically, and yet feel as though he were really miles away from her. When he had finally come to he had been polite and apologetic, and had almost seemed like a completely different person.

Nervously, Sarah's fingers began to play with the frayed edges of her rug as she recalled the next part of the evening which had bothered her.

Jareth had freely admitted that he hadn't known how she had gotten into his world. She supposed it should have bothered her more that she didn't know how it had happened and if it could happen again, but she was still stuck on the fact that he had told the truth when it had not really been to his advantage. Deep down Sarah had always felt as though he were a liar; he may have never actually said anything that wasn't true, but the sheer amount of information that he was constantly withholding made her feel justified in the opinion. Jareth was a liar through omission, but tonight he had given her the straight truth: he didn't know, and chances were he wasn't going to know until it happened again and he was actually awake to witness it. He had admitted a weakness, a vulnerability that she had assumed his pride would force him to overlook. In the end, it almost made him seem stronger, that he could look his shortcomings in the eye and not feel as though he had failed in any way whatsoever.

'It must be nice to be so confident in yourself,' Sarah thought while twirling a stray thread through her fingers. 'Even when he doesn't know something, he still admits it in a way that makes him sound as though he were completely in control.'

At this point her mind desperately wanted to blank, because the last two topics of the evening had shaken her badly.

On that night in her parents' bedroom, what felt like eons ago, Jareth had stood in front of the windows, outlined against the darkness by flashes of magic and an inner luminescence. He had been drenched in velvet, leather, and amour, all of it looking even darker than the night sky when compared to his unearthly paleness; he had been a vision as terrifying as he was alluring. She had never seen anyone like him, and yet… something about him had seemed familiar. Perhaps it was just a spark set deep in his hypnotic eyes or simply the way he carried himself, but there was something about Jareth that struck a chord deep within her. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, she had always known that more ran between them than simply the game that she had been forced to play. Even after she had regained her memories of the Labyrinth and realized that he had loved her, something had still been missing. Like an explanation, for starters. _Why_ had he loved her? Was it possible for anyone to fall in love with someone so quickly, or had he felt that spark of recognition at their first meeting too?

After tonight's talk she now had an answer. Something _did_ run between them. She had no idea _what_ and probably wouldn't until he got around to explaining it, but Sarah and Jareth were connected. She wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean or what it entailed, but taken at a very broad angle it could explain why she had felt as though she had already known Jareth when they had first met. But then again, it might not explain anything. How long had they been connected?

"_I will admit that I have known you longer than you have known me,"_ the words surfaced from the back of her mind. His tone had been quiet and tender, but they had still forced suspicion into her. How much longer, and why? Had Jareth been like some sort of deranged guardian angel, haunting her every step? Or did he mean it in terms more relative to how long they had known each other already; that perhaps he had only seen her a few days before she had called upon him? With great dread, Sarah got the feeling that a handful of days would not be considered longer to a man who had probably already seen hundreds of years.

But even these thoughts did not bother her as deeply as what they had discussed next.

She had known for days that Jareth had taken away most her memories of the Labyrinth and then slowly had given them back to her. In truth, it hadn't really bothered her until they had talked about. He had had his reasons, explained them rather well really, but that didn't make it right. Sarah could understand that he had done what he thought was right given the circumstances, and that it all came down to a matter of opinion as to whether his actions had been appropriate. His side of the argument was clear, and he believed in it whole-heartedly. That was probably what made it so painful; he didn't think that she had the capacity to change. Jareth might as well have come right out and said that no matter how much time had passed he believed that she would have always been a callous and ungrateful little girl. That in four years she wouldn't have realized everything that had happened in those thirteen hours had been the results of her own actions, that she had really only won because he had been blinded by affection. Jareth either though very little of her emotional development, or had absolutely no idea how humans grew up.

And what gave him the right anyway? How dare he just assume he could go in and mess around with her brain! Not for the first time Sarah was left to wonder how much power Jareth truly had at the tips of his fingers. He had erased nearly every memory she had had about the Underground, and if he hadn't given them back she would still be walking around thinking it had been nothing more than a really good dream. If he could do that, what else was in his power? What else had he already done or was prepared to do?

Everything Jareth had done that night had changed her opinions about him, and strengthened one that she had been beginning to forget. He had the capacity to be a gentleman, to be a joker, he could be an interesting companion, but he could also be dangerous. There were so many sides to him, so many facets to his personality that Sarah began to wonder which he was like the most. Was he the arrogant Goblin King, the mischievous flirter, the quiet gentleman, or the dangerous creature with flashing eyes? A sigh escaped her lips as she continued to think, more personalities presenting themselves by the second. He was all of them, she realized with a start. It was as if he were presenting her with a multitude of masks, each one entirely different from any of the others, and yet they were _all_ his true face.

With a groan, Sarah brought her forehead to rest against her knees. Why were men so confusing?

_

* * *

Patience was easy to plan, but dreadfully hard to practice. Jareth hadn't wanted to let her go, not after they had actually started to open up to each other. He had promised himself that he was going to give Sarah the time and space she needed in order to return his affections, but every time they were together she would say or so something that just made him want to take her home an never let her go. _

"_Sarah's a woman, not a stray pet, you fool," he chided himself quietly. But every parting got harder to bear; how long would it be before instinct won out over reasoning? Still, he would try, he owed her at least that much of a chance. _

_For a while Jareth tried going back to sleep; exhausted though he was, he was simply too _awake_ to actually achieve any rest. 'Just as well,' he thought while slipping back into his shirt, 'I mentioned the connection and Sarah is, no doubt, curious.' Quiet steps echoes through the halls of his tiny sanctuary, reminding him, with a mix of both joy and despair, that he was completely alone. "I might as well brush up on all the facts myself," Jareth murmured to himself, stepping into a library that had not seen him since the days in which he had set out to shift his kingdom away from the human realm._

* * *

Falling asleep hadn't been a conscious decision, but Sarah's mind had worked itself to exhaustion, running around in circles and trailing after questions she had no answers to. Eventually she must have just nodded off. With a groan she rolled over, wanting desperately to curl back into her warm sheets and sleep for another hour or so. She'd been having such a nice dream too, something about chocolate cake and coffee. As Sarah burrowed deeper into her nest of blankets the thought occurred to her that she couldn't remember having ever gotten off the floor. 

Trepidation never even registered, somehow she just knew she was about to see something disagreeable and worrying about it wasn't going to make a difference. With a forlorn little sigh she lifted herself off her stomach, sat up, and quickly wrapped herself in the coversheet because her room was _freezing_.

Jareth was sitting in the corner of her room, legs propped against her vanity but angled in such a way that he was still facing her bed. In his lap he held a tome that was nearly as thick as her hand was long, and on the table rested an ornate cup of something that she _hoped_ was not alcohol. Sarah had seen many sides to him already, but she was praying to put 'smashed-out-of-mind' off for as long as possible.

Her gaze flickered around the rest of the room, making sure everything else was as it should be. Nothing, other than the obvious, appeared to be out of order aside from the fact that her window was open and it was snowing outside (and, therefore, on her windowsill as well). When she finally brought herself away from the thought of there being weather in her room, her gaze was met by Jareth's blue eyes before they flickered back down to his book. "You sleep with your mouth open, and yet you neither drool nor snore. It's rather adorable," he said by way of greeting.

It was sort of pointless to ask, but it felt obligatory. "What are doing here?" Sarah questioned in a tired voice.

"Reading," was his automatic reply, which he hadn't even looked up to give.

"I can see that," she replied sarcastically, "but I'm pretty sure there are better places to do it, places where you might even be welcomed."

Jareth looked up for a moment. "Is your disdain truly that great?"

She paused for a moment. He had been polite and honest last night when he hadn't had to, and she had decided to give him a chance but he was making it very hard to remain calm. Once again he had invaded the privacy of her room, only this time he had turned it into an icebox as well. "I'm trying to figure out if you're being an ass on purpose or if you really are just eccentric."

Jareth let out a velvety laugh and set his book aside, a loud 'whump' followed by some jingling coming from the general direction of her vanity. "I leave the decision entirely up to you, my dear. I'm sure you wouldn't be wrong in either case."

He just looked so damn happy, she thought. "Why are reading in my room?" Sarah asked with an amused shake of her head; this man sure had gall.

For a minute there was silence as Jareth thought and took a slow sip from his cup. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he finally conceded. "Better than an empty stone library, at any rate." She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I have not slept in three days, Sarah; I am running on determination alone," he paused. "And copious amounts of coffee," he added after taking another sip from his cup. "So forgive me if my judgment has seemed less than logical."

For the first time that morning, Sarah really took in his appearance. Jareth was wearing the same clothing as he had been last night, and it bore the wrinkles of slouched studying. 'He must have been reading for hours,' she thought. His face was no paler than usual, but his eyes did seem heavier lidded, and there was no arguing that his voice was more of a quiet intonation than his usual sharp speech.

"I thought we could invite your family to go for a walk today," Jareth interrupted her perusal, "or perhaps a hike. A hike would be good, out in the fresh air where…" he trailed off, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"You could stay awake?" Sarah supplied. "A hike sounds fine I guess, but don't you think you ought to sleep first?"

"It won't work," he mumbled around the rim of his cup, "I've already tried that and it's too late anyway."

Sarah sat back and began to wonder exactly where the conversation had stopped making sense. With a groan she realized that he was too far gone to question any further, let alone take a hike. As he stared fixedly out the window, she wondered what to do with a grown man who was practically delusion, he was so exhausted.

Underneath her, the bed seemed to radiate a comforting warmth. She shot a worried glance up at Jareth again. No man had ever slept in her bed before, but…

Well, it was only sleeping in the extremely literal sense.

* * *

A/N: Bleh, nowhere near where I wanted this. Anyway nice and long, though I'm kinda sorry that more didn't happen. Sarah had a lot of thinking to do. 

An emphatic thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and an extra special thank you to all the usual suspects (you know who you are; we talk on a weekly basis).

Please Review!

Disclaimer: Labyrinth, including all characters and concepts recognizable as having come from said movie, does not belong to me.


	27. Getting Some Rest?

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Getting Some Rest?

_Jareth was beyond exhausted; the cold air from the window was doing nothing for him and the coffee had stopped being effective hours ago._

* * *

It was one thing to decide to let Jareth use her bed to catch up on some sleep, it was quite another to actually voice that decision. Sarah sat on her bed, somewhat rested and wrapped comfortably in a warm sheet while he sat in a chair looking like he was about to drop dead; he _needed_ the rest, but it still felt embarrassing to ask him to her bed, however innocent the reason.

Jareth continued to stare fixedly out the window, his head lolled to the side a bit as if considering something. His eyes drifted shut but seconds later he jolted awake, stubbornly clinging to consciousness. It reminded her of Toby in a way, how he always fought sleep tooth and nail as if something interesting were going to happen the second he let go.

No, Sarah decided, she couldn't let embarrassment get in the way; the world was scary enough when Jareth was in complete control of his powers, who knew what could happen when he was this out of himself. Besides, it was only a big deal if she made it into one.

_

* * *

Why hadn't he slept in three days? It had been a very long time since Jareth had last called his own actions into question, but he was now finding it hard to understand why he was so sleep deprived. Of course, it probably had a lot to do Sarah, these things always did, but honestly this was just careless. Was he really so enamored with her that he couldn't pull himself away enough to find a few minutes of rest? And sadly, the answer was yes. In three days they had started an intricate dance; it was frustrating and invigorating, maddening and addictive. For every step he tried to make forward, Sarah countered with a step of her own; and for every step she tried to make away, he would twirl her about and start a new dance. There were no dull moments to be had in such a lively relationship._

_As Jareth watched the snowflakes begin to collect on the windowsill he thought of Sarah. She was young and naïve, unsure of the situation but old enough to understand the implications. Or at least she should have been, but that was the problem: Sarah _didn't_ understand. She seemed confused by him and everything around her, and it wasn't fully the sort of confusion that came from sorting her own feelings out, it was the sort of confusion that came from bewilderment. He supposed it was his own fault, after all she had no way of knowing what he was up to, and perhaps he hadn't made himself clear. This wasn't some bizarre winter tryst he was trying to engage her in, nor a convoluted plan for revenge; Jareth had spent years trying to figure this girl out and somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with her. He wasn't looking for a lover or a brief companion; it was a wife, a queen that he was after. No one would do but Sarah; she was enchanting and vexing, absolutely beautiful and damn near the only woman who had ever been able to hold his attention for so long. For centuries he had been looking for a challenge, something to give meaning to the endless days before him, and he had found that in Sarah. No woman had ever pleased or confounded him as much as the young mortal across the room; he couldn't imagine life without her stubborn opposition anymore, didn't even want to try. It would simply be hell if things went back to the way they had been: Sarah going about for the rest of her days, constantly calling out to him and never knowing it, and him constantly answering but never being able to have his own peace of mind. The very thought made him want to snarl; there was simply no way that Jareth would be able to endure it. She had been an innocent before, too young for his company, but she was a woman now and to be denied of her again, knowing that he had lost her and yet still being connected by the calling, would drive him passed all reason into the twisted arms of insanity. A shudder ran through him; he was a warrior-king by all accounts but the very thought of being trapped within his own mind, while his body still retained all of its power, was frightening. The devastation that could be caused by such a deadly situation was no laughing matter._

_Jareth shook himself, trying to get rid of his dark thoughts; it was certainly something to be wary of but there was no need to start worrying about it all the time. From the corner of his eye there was movement, nearly causing him to start. Sarah had gotten off the bed and made it all the way to his side while he had been lost in thought._

_She seemed timid but resolved, he noted absently. In a slow, hesitant movement she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Come on," Sarah said quietly; he might as well have been deaf though, he was so focused on the fact that she had initiated physical contact between them. She stood huddled in her blanket and bent over his figure slightly; she was careful that nothing touched him other than her hand, and even that was a gentle contact. Her palm rested over the curve of his shoulder while her slim fingers curled around to the back but did not grasp, as though she were afraid to add pressure or get any sort of clear hold on him. After another moment's hesitation she finally tightened her slender digits._

"_What?" Jareth asked, cringing inside at how much the question made him sound like an empty-headed fool. _

_She gave him an agitated look, her shyness seeming to have evaporated. As she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes she repeated, "Come on." Her hand slipped down from his shoulder to his own hand, which she grasped tightly and gave an insistent tug. "You're going to sleep; you're not yourself right now. If you're dead-set on spending time with my family then you'll need to be less oblivious to everything around you. If you space out every couple of minutes, like you are now, my parents will think you're on drugs or something," she added with a snort._

_Jareth just stared at her for a moment. The situation would have been too good to be true, _a direct invitation to Sarah's bed_, if it weren't for the fact that right now he really was too out of sorts to take advantage. For a moment he cursed his luck, but brightened at the thought that he could use this to twist her arm later. For the sake of gentlemanly appearances though, he made as if to argue. "Sarah," he began in voice that wouldn't have sounded hesitant in the least if he hadn't been so damn tired._

_Right on cue, Sarah interrupted him. "No, I've already made up my mind. If we're going to go through with this whole sham of a relationship then we're going to put on the best damn show of it we can, and that means we both have to be at the top of our game." She gave him a brief once over before looking back into his eyes. "You look dead, Jareth," Sarah deadpanned, "you need rest, and I don't think that it would be a good idea for you to try using magic to get home." He was touched that, despite all the confusion which lay between them, she really did seem concerned. "So logically, you'll just have to sleep here," she tugged at his hand again, encouraging him to stand up. _

_With a languid grace he stood, grimacing as his back protested from enduring several hours stuck in the same position. Sarah made to step away but he quickly repositioned their hands, lacing their fingers together. It wasn't often that he found himself without gloves, they were very much a part of who he was, but at the moment he was simply reveling in the sensation. Her skin was soft, like the touch of silk, and delightfully warm despite the coolness of the air. It was amazing how something as simple as a touch from her could put him at peace, but he couldn't remember having ever felt so content in his life; time permitting, he could have stood that way for the rest of his life, simply linked hand-in-hand with his Sarah._

_She jerked in his grasp at first, mostly out of surprise he figured, but didn't protest. It shouldn't have been necessary to lead him to the bed seeing as it was only a few feet away, but since he refused to let her go until the very last minute, she had little choice. Sarah seemed harried, he noted, but determined to see her decision through with as little trouble as possible. Her movement was calm and her green eyes seemed to flash a deep emerald in stubbornness, but her head was lowered slightly, as if embarrassed. Jareth fought a smirk at the thought; she understood the implications of what she was doing and it embarrassed her because her intensions were purely innocent. It was entirely too endearing, he decided; it was only too bad he was much too tired to do anything about that… for now._

_In a matter of seconds they reached the edge of the bed and Sarah shook her hand free of him. With the self-righteousness only a parent should be able to achieve, she pointed behind him and commanded, "Go to sleep. It'll probably only be a few hours before everyone else is up, but it's more than you're running on right now."_

_It never even crossed his mind to disobey. With a contented sigh he settled onto the mattress. The last thing to cross his mind was the wonderful thought that everything around him held a part of Sarah to it, after which he _finally_ fell asleep._

* * *

It was worrying, in a way, to see Jareth so worn out. During their final confrontation in the Escher Room he had said he was exhausted, and maybe at the time he had looked it but now Sarah felt there was simply no comparison. If he had been exhausted then, well he surely had one foot in the grave now because he looked pinched, nearly ill really. With a small measure of relief, she noted that his breathing had evened out; Jareth was asleep for now. She had no idea what sort of standards separated their species, but after hearing how long he had been without sleep she had started to worry. Would he do something rash in front of her family? Would his magic go haywire? Again, she was left to wonder what he truly was, what his limits were, and if he was pushing them far too often.

Sarah brushed as much snow as she could off her windowsill, and then shut the pane. With any luck the room would warm up quickly. A sigh escaped her lips, wondering what she was supposed to do while Jareth slept. She couldn't leave; it would nearly be cruel to allow him to wake up alone in unfamiliar territory. Besides, the thought of him alone in her private space was enough to make her cringe. After a moment Sarah sat in her vanity chair, rearranging her blanket until she was warm. Her eyes glanced around the room, then settled on the bed. It wasn't often that she got the chance to study him without being studied in return.

Jareth rolled onto his side, facing her now, one arm against his side while the other trailed out in front of him. It was odd to see someone like him asleep; it just seemed too prosaic of an action for the Goblin King. She studied him for a minute longer, noting how the drawn look had left his face; he looked content, as if sleep had never been so dear to him as it was now. It was a strange thought, especially since it was her bed that he seemed to be so content with. The blue and orange sheets now looked completely comical when someone as refined, as elegant as Jareth slept atop them. He deserved something like dark velvet or satin, not cheap linen done up with a childish design.

Sarah quickly shook her head. 'I should not be thinking about this!' her inner voice wailed out. For a moment, she regarded him in envy; she may have gotten more rest than he did, but she was still rather tired herself. Slumping, she settled deeper into the uncomfortable wooden chair, grabbed a book, and resolved not to think about the situation any further.

_

* * *

Sarah moaned underneath him, wrapping her arms around his neck and trying to pull him closer. Jareth nearly purred as she opened her mouth to the kiss, allowing him to flick his tongue out to meet her own. There was no time wasted on battling for dominance; time had stood in their way too often, and he was not about to waste any moment that he could spend learning her. They stayed that way for a long while, simply living for the moment, before she lightly grazed her teeth against his bottom lip and pulled away for air._

_Her eyes were glazed over, darkened by passion, and her cheeks were flushed to a brilliant rosy. Dark, disheveled hair framed her face, and already her lips were beginning to swell from his attentions. Her breath panted out through lightly parted lips, causing her bosom to heavy most attractively. Sarah had never looked so wonderful as she did now, overcome by primal instinct. There was something wild about her, buried deep down, that had always fascinated him, like a dangerous beast just begging to be freed. At times he felt as though that simply brought her closer to nature, away from the cheap veneer of civilization, closer to him. On a basic level he _was_ a dangerous beast, a creature that had been born wild and free and would do everything in his power to keep it that way. It only seemed fitting that some part of her should mirror that._

_Sarah brought her head to rest against his shoulder. "This isn't real," she whispered against his neck._

* * *

It can't be real, she told herself as she began nuzzling his throat. Aside from the occasional reflection on how incredibly beautiful he was, Sarah had never really thought about Jareth on such a physical level. Her mind had wanted to, but it was uncharted territory and she had wanted to keep her hormones as uninvolved as possible until she could figure out how she felt about him emotionally.

That, and she couldn't remember any of the events having led up to this moment, so it stood to reason that it wasn't actually happening.

"I had realized," Jareth growled lowly, then tightened his hold and added, "but at the moment I don't particularly care." One hand started playing lazy circles around her ribs while his teeth found her ear and began to worry the skin there.

Sarah let out a shudder at his husky tone and enticing actions, but in the back of her mind she was wondering if someone in a dream was supposed to be able to admit it. It was almost as if he were, in fact, self-aware. His teeth released her flesh and she promptly went back to exploring his neck, earning herself a light shiver in the process. He smelled like fire and rich fruits, she thought as his very being seemed to surround her.

"Wait a second," Sarah breathed out in a gasp as his hands started to make for the buttons on her shirt.

"No. I do believe that I've done entirely too much waiting already," he murmured into her newly bared shoulder. His tongue swept across the skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. As his devious mouth continued to lavish attention there, something seemed to crackle across her body. Everything was humming, alive with energy and wanting nothing but Jareth.

Sarah held in a moan; something was seriously wrong here. "I said to wait second, Jareth," she insisted, pulling back on his hair slightly to emphasize her point.

He shot her a frustrated look, and she noted dimly that his eyes seemed to hold a feral quality now. "Gods, even in a _dream_ you're stubborn," he complained, giving her shoulder a brief warning nip before pulling away. "What is it?"

The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine; he was exhilarated, a predator on the hunt and closing in for the kill. With a shaky breath, Sarah tried to gather her thoughts; he may have pulled away when asked, but his eyes said he was far from done. "A minute ago I figured that I had just fallen asleep in my chair and that this was a dream," she started. "I mean, I honestly cannot remember a single event leading up to this moment…"

"But?" Jareth questioned, his voice coming out like a warm invitation.

She carried on, trying not to let his tone get to her, "But then you said you knew it wasn't real as well, so… whose dream is this and why are we _both_ having it?"

Jareth closed his eyes as a truly devilish smile bloomed over his face. When he opened them again, the blue orbs seemed to glow in wicked glee. "A shared dream?" he whispered. "Perhaps. But just remember this when you wake up, dear heart; the guilt for this rests on two sets of shoulders, not one." The world around her began to fade, but Jareth's feral eyes stayed clear. "It may not be as much of a dream as you would like to think," he whispered before his lips claimed hers in a fierce kiss.

To say that she jolted awake would be entirely true; to say that she was surprised at what she found would be an understatement.

Sarah's bright eyes flew open to stare dumbly at the chair across the room, the chair she had been sitting in before she had fallen asleep. The blanket was still there, rumpled and wrinkled from being wrapped around her, and the book that she had been reading was resting carelessly open on the seat. It was as if…

"As if you were brought over here by magic," a dark voice whispered in her ear.

Sarah's mind froze. She was lying on her side and she could feel the solid strength of a male body pressed against her entire length; arms wrapped around her intimately and she could practically _feel_ the smirking face resting just beyond her shoulder. "Not as much of a dream as you would like to think," the words tumbled out of her mouth as she continued to stare at where she should have been seated.

The arms flexed, bringing her tighter against the laughing chest behind her. "Precisely," Jareth replied, laying his head against her own. A few strands of wild blonde hair fell over neck, making her shiver.

"What magic?" Sarah asked suddenly, trying to push away from the warm body behind her.

Nimble fingers pinched her side. "Stop moving," he warned in a low voice. "I have a guess," he continued, "but you wouldn't understand it right now, so it shall have to wait until later." His thumb soothed the spot he had pinched while his other arm brought her back the few inches she had escaped.

Sarah resisted the urge to do several things, although at the moment she mostly wanted to elbow him sharply. "How often is this going to happen?" she asked angrily. "And why am I the only one who's popping back and forth into different places?"

_

* * *

Jareth was just enjoying the moment. The dream was still fresh in her mind and Sarah was flustered by the situation; it made her somewhat more complacent then usual, she could have been struggling a lot more. If he had thought he could have spent eternity holding her hand, it was nothing to how he felt now. Her body was warm and soft, pressed tightly to him back to front and she seemed to fit there perfectly. It was where she belonged. How sweet future days would be if he could always wake up with this woman sleeping against him!_

_He was about to answer her question, before she repeated it as she so often did with such demands, when the door flew open. There was a split second, as raw light from the hallway penetrated Sarah's comfortingly dark room, before he managed to get his human façade in place. Lifting his head for a moment, Jareth met wide blue eyes in the doorway._

_Silence reigned for an entire minute._

"_Ew!" Toby finally burst out. "Next time Mom wants to know what you're having for breakfast, she can ask herself."_

* * *

A/N: I struggled so hard with the beginning of this chapter; I hope it doesn't show. People kept walking in and out of the room, there were chainsaws going off outside and vacuums going off inside. Made me want to scream! Anyway, nice long chapter (one of the longest I've written) that I hope you've enjoyed! (By the way, I had this chapter ready for Saturday, but the stupid site kept giving me an upload error message. So, sorry for the slight delay.)

The biggest of 'thank you's to everyone who has reviewed. I've never received so many in my life!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.


	28. Reflections

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Reflections.

"You really have nothing to be so embarrassed about Sarah," Jareth said from behind her somewhere.

Sarah's hands covered her face, hiding its newly acquired tomato-red complexion. "My little brother just saw me being molested by my boyfriend; I think I've moved beyond embarrassed and entered the realm of mortified," she groaned out from behind her fingers.

Jareth snorted, ruffling the hair at the back of her neck and causing her to shiver involuntarily. "It is the duty of younger siblings everywhere to walk in on their elders at the most inopportune times," he stated, stretched languidly and then sat up, bringing her with him. "It's for the best, I suppose," he lamented, resting his chin in the crook of her shoulder, "there wouldn't have been enough time for either of us to enjoy ourselves properly."

Sarah, who had nearly calmed down enough to uncover her face, let out a startled squeak. "Don't _say_ things like that!" she commanded in an uncomfortable tone. What he was suggesting… it was just…

Embarrassing? Ludicrous? Something that her hereto-undiscovered libido was begging for rather insistently?

From the moment that she had met him, Jareth had set Sarah on edge, and it wasn't entirely due to the fact that he had kidnapped her brother. A dark air surrounded him, demanding attention. It was the sort of resonance that warned her of danger, a deadly temper that could spend years inflicting torture and never be satisfied; and yet at the same time it called to something within her, promising hours of devious pleasure if she would just play along. Even at fifteen she had felt the pull of his sexual appeal, and it had frightened her. Though she truly hadn't seen much of him during her time in the Labyrinth, the few moments that they _had_ shared left her with no doubt that he was passionate in everything he did; his anger was explosive, his planning was genius, his desire was all-consuming. In the Crystal Ballroom he had been surrounded by women of every shape and size, from the supremely elegant to the ridiculously gaudy, but Jareth had only had eyes for her; she was the single focus of that intense drive. Sarah had been more frightened by his gaze, full of such longing, than the rapidly closing-in courtiers. She had panicked and fled, but the question kept returning: What would it have been like to let herself go? At fifteen the thought of sex was just as terrifying as it was intriguing.

Despite her innocence, Sarah's opinions of physical relations had changed with the years; it was something to be explored, experimented with, not something to fear. Except in the case of the man who was pressed to her back. To give herself to a boy from school would be a learning experience, a brief foray that could be forgotten as soon as the relationship ended; with Jareth she had no doubt that it would be a commitment. He had asked to rule her once, and if she gave him the chance he would do it with a velvet-covered, iron fist. It would be as pleasurable as it would be binding, held to him in ecstasy but forced to stay there. If his passion could consume all of _his_ senses, then what would it do to the one he chose to unleash it on? There was no doubt that Jareth carried about him the air of experience, no one could have such calculated appeal without already having known the pleasures of the flesh, but losing herself to him could very well lead him to think she had finally accepted his offer. Her slave, indeed; he couldn't very well be her slave if he was already a slave to himself!

'But would it really be so bad?' she wondered to herself. Sarah let out a frustrated huff; things were just so complicated. What was it that Jareth really wanted? How were they connected?

And how _much_ of a commitment would it be to give in?

In the back of her mind, Sarah was tormented by the remembrance of commanding lips seeking out sensitive flesh, the barest hint of sharp canines playing wicked games across her shoulder, the delicious feel of male strength hovering just above her, and the bewitching scent of the man who had done it all.

* * *

_Jareth cocked his head slightly, trying to get a better view of Sarah's face. She had gone oddly quiet and he was curious as to what she was thinking about; he could tell she was confused but then, when _wasn't_ she? A slight frown pulled at the corner of her lips, making her bottom lip pout out in a way that was just begging to be nipped. It was an alien concept to restrain himself, but he hadn't been kidding earlier. There was no point starting something that they wouldn't have enough time to finish, and rushing her before he even had her trust would be a fatal mistake at this point. A woman such as Sarah was meant to be savored, loved as completely as possible; it wasn't enough to simply commit the act, she had to be convinced of the emotion as well. It would mean a little more waiting on his part but that would simply make her surrender sweeter. For the both of them._

_But that didn't make it any easier. In the early days of his obsession Jareth hadn't felt much for Sarah other than curiosity; she was young and endearing, the sort of girl any man would pray for, should he have daughters. She grew though, grew fast as her people always did, went from an adorable little girl to a brilliant young woman. In some ways he had always loved her, it was hard not to be drawn in by that endless fascination, but in the blossom of womanhood his love for her had taken on a completely different nature. It wasn't enough to be her silent guardian anymore, it wasn't enough to stay away until he could figure their connection out, it wasn't enough to love her in a platonic, absentminded way. That tiny little slip of a girl had made him burn in ways that women of his court had only dreamed of achieving. To his people age truly meant nothing, but even he had known that she was perhaps too young; old enough for devotion, certainly, but too young for passion. It hadn't always been so, a few hundred years ago he would have been able to stake his claim and take her with him as a babe, but standards had changed. It wasn't acceptable anymore for a man of his relative (mental) age to give attention to a girl of less than twenty, to be obstinately patriarchal (as everyone had once been) and decide her life for her. _

_The Labyrinth had been a mistake, she hadn't understood what he was trying to tell her, had set himself up too high to be reached. She had made all the wrong turns, taken all the wrong advice and still found her way to the center; but then, the center of the Labyrinth had always been close to his heart, a place where she already resided. He had been unable to utilize the full malevolence of the twisting maze, emotion had held his power in careful check; it would do him no good to scare the girl. If he had been thinking ahead he never would have put that final line in the book ("You have no power over me," even now it made him shake in both dejection and rage) but he had been so damn sure of himself. He'd had every reason to think he would win, Sarah was practically a child and no one had ever found their way through his games before; besides that, she had called for him. Not _to_ him, as she had done in the past, but _for_ him; he had tried restraining himself, saying that young girls were fickle, that she had no idea what she was asking for, but it had been hopeless. If nothing else, he and Sarah were the same in that once they had set their sights on something they did not relent until it was theirs. So he had played the Hades, dragging sweet Persephone down into his dark kingdom; it was ironic that one bite of fruit had given her the strength to defeat him, rather than keep her confined to his realm. _

_It was a long relationship of denial, on both their parts. When Jareth had first met her as a baby he had been convinced that it didn't mean anything, unusual though it was for one of the Kings to be summoned. As a toddler, he had admitted that there was something special about Sarah but it wouldn't warrant physical inspection, so he had watched her grow up from afar. The first time she had called for _him_ he had known that he loved her, but refused to subject her to the intensity of his emotions while she was still so young. She hadn't stopped though, and a man could only be teased so much before he broke; he was done pretending that nothing laid between them. But then Sarah had picked up the thread of denial. A villain could not love in her mind, and so he had set out to prove her wrong. It had backfired horribly, not only did she continue to ignore his capacity to feel but she flat out refused him for a squealing whelp that she could barely tolerate. He had preserved though, the future held a promise of second chance, so he waited until the time was right. Her body was innocent but her mind now understood what he had so desperately been trying to show her; perhaps not as well as she could, given a few more years to mature, but waiting was a painful practice and not something that Jareth could easily endure where Sarah was concerned. But still their relationship suffered from denial; the woman absolutely refused to entertain the thought that there could be more between them than her beloved fairytale! _

_Perhaps the blame was not entirely her own though, he mused. He had made the mistake of not making his intentions entirely clear once before and it had cost him dearly. To make the same mistake again, knowing full well that Sarah's stubborn nature was simply complicating matters, would be intolerable. She couldn't be expected to fall to his charms if she had no idea why he was even using them; perhaps she was concerned about the nature of the relationship he was seeking. The fear of become just another face in a vast sea of conquests could be overwhelming; she had no way of knowing that she was _the_ conquest, the only woman he had ever pictured as his bride. It was time, he thought, to be perfectly blunt about _what_ he desired and start wooing her in earnest._

_In front of him Sarah let out a huff at her own thoughts, and for a moment Jareth was jealous at whatever had distracted her so thoroughly that she could ignore him even when he was, quite literally, wrapped around her._

* * *

She found him attractive, inhumanly so (quite fittingly), but that had never really been the question. It was almost a given that she would find someone such as Jareth appealing, he was everything boys her age couldn't be: pure fantasy. But a true relationship could not survive on sexual energy alone and he really didn't do much to inspire a sense of moral integrity. She had no idea what he did with his life, what sort of society he was from; hell, she barely even knew _him_. 

Somewhere, buried in the mess of thoughts that dealt with him, Sarah knew that she felt _something_ for him emotionally. Given half a chance, she could even come to love Jareth as much as she desired him. But could she trust someone like him with her heart? In some ways it wasn't fair how quick she was to judge him, they had only known each other for a short period and under bizarre circumstances, but this was a serious matter. He had never come off as particularly trustworthy, but now that the curiosity had set in Sarah was interested to know what they could possibly share. She had never flourished particularly well in her past relationships, it was easier to love someone as a sister than a girlfriend, but perhaps it was time to get a bit of a feel for the situation. So much time had been wasted in hiding, forcing everything deep inside where it had no chance to be reflected upon, but she could loosen up, relax enough to see if their 'sham of a relationship' wasn't so much of a sham after all.

As Sarah's thoughts resolved themselves she slowly came back to herself. Jareth's head still rested in the crook of her shoulder but angled in such a way that he was staring at her, and for a moment she wished that he weren't so uncomfortably close. "What?" she asked nervously, doing her best to return his stare without going cross-eyed.

Had Jareth been a woman, the expression which crossed his face could have been described as pouting but, as things stood, everything about it was slightly too masculine to be labeled as such. It was more of a good-natured sulk. "I hate it when you do that," he replied in a tone that she had often heard Toby use. "Here I am, hanging over you like devilishly handsome dead weight, and you go off ignoring me." He not-quite-pouted again, "You truly know how to kick a man's ego." His arms tightened around her waist as he shifted them both forward, toward the edge of the bed. "Up you get," he whispered in her ear, standing them up in a move that would have been comical had he not been so graceful. After a few moments' indecision he gave her middle a playful squeeze, before finally releasing her and heading for the door.

Sarah stared after him in shock, her quick steps blocking his path. "I want answers, Jareth; strange things are happening and you keep telling me I wouldn't understand" she spoke quietly as her thoughts flickering back to earlier that morning. "Well that's not good enough; make me understand."

Jareth walked around her, pausing at the door. "You will get your answers Sarah, as well as I am able to provide them, but for now your family is awake and I suggest we put in an appearance before your brother starts explaining why his big sister isn't downstairs eating breakfast yet." He held his hand out for her.

She regarded him a moment, yet again amazed at how almost-human his magic had made him look, before she put her hand in his. "You promise?" she asked with just the tiniest twinge of command.

Strawberry blond locks fell into brilliantly blue eyes, made all the more striking in contrast to his dark clothing. He let out a laugh, the youthful throat adding more of cheery ring to it than she had ever heard. "It would appear I have no choice." Jareth turned serious for a moment, "I've already promised you answers, Sarah; never doubt that I will honor that."

Breakfast that morning was oddly chipper considering that she spent most of it glaring at her boyfriend and studiously ignoring the gaze of Toby, who was blatantly making noises of disgust. Karen, for her part, appeared completely oblivious and not the least bit curious about why Jareth was over so early or even when he had arrived; her father seemed to be using the newspaper as a shield against the rest of the occupants of the table, making Sarah glance at her brother's cereal box and wonder if she could, in effect, do the same. 'Probably not,' she sighed to herself; if there was one thing she had learned where Jareth was concerned it was that there was no use hiding.

It wasn't even his fault, really, that she was upset; Sarah was impatient for explanations, but Jareth was being practical. They had an appearance to develop and maintain, it would be better to hold off long conversations until after they had parted company with her family. On the other hand, she felt completely justified in some of her glaring. Whether she had enjoyed it or not, in less than twenty-four hours he had broken the only rule that she had set; there had been quite a bit more touching than necessary that morning. Still…

At least he hadn't grabbed her ass.

* * *

A/N: I have finally gotten a new laptop to replace the hell-spawn that I had previous been trying to use. Normally this would mean more frequent updates, but semester is almost over so I'm anticipating a bit of a crazy schoolwork schedule soon (papers, tests, finals, and all that jazz). (I love how every time I warn you guys of possible delays, I end up updating early. Consider this chapter a bonus for this week; it didn't really go where I wanted it to, but I'll get there next chapter so I can't complain.) 

(To anyone who has sent me a PM and I have not responded: I'm not recieving any of my email alerts, so I apologize for the delay in my getting back to you.)

Woohoo! Broke 300 reviews! That's a personal record for me; I still can't believe how much response this story is getting. So hugs, kisses, and very big thank you's to everyone! (And as a friendly reminder, you should all go to Mistress Eden's website (link found in her profile) where this, and many other wonderful stories are archived.)

Please Review!

Disclaimer: Nothing from the movie Labyrinth belongs to me; I'm just a girl whose imagination refuses to stop running wild.


	29. Amaretto and Cherries, Part One

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Amaretto and Cherries, Part One.

She should have known that something was up when Jareth had suggested the hike in the first place, the very idea of him participating in such mundane exercise was laughable, but he _had_ been half asleep when suggesting it, so she hadn't really thought on it too long. When he had brought it up again in front of her family, Sarah knew that maybe she should have been slightly wary but everyone was just getting along so well that it seemed nearly criminal to object. Now it was clear that she was simply a fool.

It was hard to say what, exactly, she had been expecting, after all it was the dead of winter and most of the nature parks near their home were closed. Still, _this_ was just ludicrous, even for Jareth!

'Moron. Idiot. Fool,' she chanted to herself while deliberately making her way over to her much-too-happy boyfriend for some insight on just what the_ hell_ he thought he was doing.

* * *

_It was just a tiny expenditure of magic, barely any effort at all to transport the five of them Underground and modify her family's memories enough that they would be peacefully oblivious to where they were. Jareth had even matched up the environments so that the area they were in right now wasn't too different from the climate they had just left. He had been careful and considerate of the details but, judging by Sarah's aggravated stride, his dear Lady was in no way thankful. Not that he had expected her to be._

_His reasons were entirely selfish, doubtlessly things that would drive Sarah to violence if she ever heard them. First and foremost was the fact that Jareth was simply more comfortable Underground. The Aboveground had once been able to host and nourish nearly all life forms, but when he had brought his people to a different realm he had taken most of the magic with them; being in the mortal world was like trying to breath underwater: you could try, but there wouldn't be any air. There was no magic, and it left him feeling bereft, half-starved; he still had what was inherently his birthright, but it was harder to use in the absence of environmental magic. Second was the fact that, by Jareth's count, he had spent more time in Sarah's home than she had in his. Her powers were strengthening by constant exposure to his own strength, but chances were they would never manifest without being properly exposed to the all-encompassing atmosphere of the Underground. He was curious to see where her magic would lay, how it would choose to develop; most of the humans he had gained dominion over had only ever been able to perform minor illusionary tricks, but then none of them had had as much raw potential as she did. His third and final reason was what would probably earn him a smack, should he ever admit to it. Taking Sarah's family Underground meant he was spending some of the time that she owed him, but it also meant that she wouldn't be earning anymore of her little explanations for a while; he had enough to tell her already, there was simply no need to add to that._

* * *

Karen and Robert stood off to the side, chatting idly about how pleasant, and fast, the car ride had been, while Toby meandered for a few feet looking almost-interested in a nearby tree. Sarah was both thankful and horrified of the scene in front of her. On the one hand she was absolutely thrilled that her family wasn't having some sort of collective mental breakdown after having been dragged into another realm; on the other hand their continued peace of mind indicated meddling on Jareth's part. 

Her boots crunched over the light coating of snow as she moved to stand next to the man in question. "What did you do to them, Jareth?" she asked quietly.

"I have taken them out for a hike," he answered plainly, still surveying the hilly forest around them.

Sarah sighed, exasperated. "You know that's not what I meant." He was such a frustrating man, she thought. This morning had been confusing enough already without him doing his best to make it worse. For that one hour at the breakfast table, as he regaled them all with (questionably truthful) stories of his two younger brothers, she had almost been able to believe that they were really just two normal people trying to get used to the thought of having the other one around. And on a basic level perhaps that's what they were, but he certainly made it hard to stay pleasant with him.

Jareth chuckled and turned to face her, the lightest dusting of ice crystals on top of his black coat caught the sun's rays, flashing and glowing mysteriously. "I simply filled in the blanks, dear," he motioned to her family. "The car ride was none too fascinating, believe me." When she continued to look distressed, he added, "The human mind is incredible, it sees only what it wants to. They remember a journey, whether it took place or not, so they have absolutely no need to question where they are or even the things that they may see while they are here. If anything seems completely unaccounted for then they will forget it all on their own."

Sarah frowned up at him. "We really need to talk about your need to tweak people's memories." That was the second time he had admitted to dancing around in someone's brain; being faced, again, with undeniable proof that he could and would use his magic in such capacity was hard to swallow.

Jareth simply shrugged, as if he could see absolutely no harm in it. "They are none the worse for where, I assure you," he soothed, taking her hand in his and running a comforting thumb over her knuckles while leading her back toward the others.

"If one of them ever starts to inexplicably cluck like a chicken," she muttered, thinking of those cheesy hypnotists on TV, "then I swear I will strangle you." Well, she'd probably laugh first, especially if it was the ever prim-and-proper Karen, but then she'd strangle him.

He laughed then, whether it was because the idea delighted him or he found the thought of her chocking him ridiculous she wasn't sure.

* * *

_Her reaction had been a lot better than Jareth had expected. Something in her was starting to accept him, he thought in glee. Less than a day ago Sarah probably would have shouted and raged at him; she was still upset, there was no mistaking that, but her response had been delightfully mature. 'We really need to talk,' she had said, and he had no doubt that they would, at length, but at the moment he was simply in awe. Perhaps Sarah had grown more than he had given her credit for._

_A movement to the side caught his attention as they finally caught up with Sarah's family. Toby was standing a few feet away, his dirty blonde hair shining in the weak light. The boy looked confused, as if he were lost in familiar territory. His blue eyes darted from tree to tree, taking in everything that he could, and somewhere, deep in the recesses of his pupils, there was the light of remembrance; the poor boy just didn't know why._

_A satisfied smile broke out over Jareth's face._

* * *

The man was too independent, much too used thinking things through and not sharing his plans with anyone, Sarah thought while gazing around the room. 

After a few hours of walking and talking, Jareth had vanished her family in a blaze of magic. When she turned panicked eyes to him he had assured her that he sent them home, and that they were now under the impression the two of them were going out for dinner. Sensing that she was still skeptical, he had produced one of his crystals and told her to look for herself. Reflected back at her was the parlor, where Karen was handing out hot chocolate and her father and Toby were playing Go Fish. It was a relief and an eye opener, for two very different reasons. One, whether he had meant it that way or not, it did show care on his part; even if she didn't agree with his methods, Jareth cared enough to make sure her family was alright. And two, she had never known his crystals could do that; it was both cool and creepy. What exactly did he spend his time looking at? As if his popping into her room whenever he pleased wasn't enough of an invasion of privacy, now she had to worry about unseen eyes no matter where she went!

Once matters about her family had been cleared up, Jareth brought them to… well, somewhere. It was an informal dinning room connected to a cozy looking kitchen. Everything about the room was warm and inviting, simple and yet still elegant. Somehow she doubted this was the Goblin Castle. It really made her wonder how many places he considered home. Jareth was currently striding around the kitchen, doing something or another but, after a couple of unidentifiable flashes of light, Sarah was a little afraid to look. Under any other circumstances she would have considered the thought of him in a kitchen hilarious, he was a king after all, but he just looked so relaxed that Sarah had to wonder if His Kingliness spent a great deal of time alone and cooking skills had risen out of necessity. It was a bit of a weird thought anyway, couldn't he just use his magic to make some food?

A large steaming cup placed itself in Sarah's line of vision, causing her eyes to wander up the arm and to the face of the man who was holding it. She accepted the drink with a quiet thank you and let the glass warm her hands while she peered curiously at its contents. It looked like a reddish hot chocolate, she thought.

Jareth sat down with a mug of his own, took a liberal sip, and turned to Sarah. "Dinner will be ready soon," he murmured, leaning back in his seat and managing to look more comfortable than could be possible while sitting on wooden furniture.

She gave a fearful sideways glance at the kitchen, "What _is_ it?" Visions of maimed, unidentifiable foods flashed through her mind, making her shudder. Then again… he had moved with as much grace as if he had been dancing, so perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. She took a quick sip of her drink, surprised when the taste of cherries and amaretto met her tongue.

He gave a smile and a quiet chuckle, although she wasn't sure if was at her question or her reaction to the drink. "Indulge me, Sarah. In the meantime, I believe we have some talking to do."

* * *

A/N: Okay, this is a short chapter so I promise to update again later this week. 

A special thank you to Venus Smurf for pointing out how funny Jareth taking a hike _could_ be, and to Darklady26 for being so amazingly insightful.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: Labyrinth does not belong to me; I am making no money off this story. (I would not, however, be adverse to writing for room and board should anyone feel the urge to adopt an author.)


	30. Amaretto and Cherries, Part Two

Chapter Thirty: Amaretto and Cherries, Part Two.

_Jareth took in a deep breath, preparing himself. There was much to be discussed, some that Sarah would not understand, some that Sarah would not like. It was such a tenuous understanding that existed between them, he hated to test it so soon, but if they could get passed everything that was about to be said then perhaps it would merely draw them closer. Little else would strain them as thoroughly as trying to understand each other over the next few hours._

_With another deep breath, he made to begin talking but Sarah, that adorably bossy little chit, stole the initiative._

* * *

He had a lot to say, she could tell, but so did she. Whatever Jareth had planned would just have to wait until after they had exhausted her topic first. 

"How can you just mess around with people's brains like that?" Sarah knew that it was probably a delicate subject, worthy of care and consideration, but she was beyond dancing around the male thought process; the direct approach seemed like a better way to get answers. It wasn't that she was furious, just disconcertedly angry.

Jareth let out a sigh, almost seeming to deflate slightly. "It's extraordinarily easy, my girl, just a subtle twist-"

"No," she interrupted. Leave it to him to think she meant the question on a mechanical level. "Not _how_ do you do it, but how can you _stand_ to do it?" she asked calmly; bluntness didn't mean she had to be rude and shout as, no doubt, that wouldn't get her anywhere with Jareth.

He seemed to consider it for a moment, looking perplexed. With his head cocked to the side, he finally replied, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

It floored her. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's wrong?"

His brows furrowed and he took a sip of his drink, but did not comment.

She was finally beginning to get a glimpse of the inner workings of Jareth, and what she saw scared her. It explained so very much, she thought. Like a child, he wasn't always aware of the difference between right and wrong; he simply saw an action and its possible consequences. "But that..." she paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words. "It's an abuse of your power, Jareth."

He tilted his head the other way, face set in confusion. "How so?"

She wasn't sure what scared her more, him using his powers in such capacity or him having absolutely no idea that it was wrong. "Everybody deserves at least a little respect; it's unethical to manipulate someone that way."

"It has no adverse effects on them, Sarah, most of the time they never even know anything has been changed," he offered confusedly.

"That's not the point!" she replied heatedly. "You were gifted with amazing powers, Jareth, strength that I can't even begin to contemplate. You should be putting it to use by protecting and caring for those weaker than yourself, not always playing off people to your absolute advantage."

Though he had not been moving, he seemed to pause, eyes going distant. "I _have_ used my magic to protect those weaker than myself, an entire kingdom full of creatures, everyday since I ascended to the throne." Jareth blinked and came back to the present. "With time you will learn how to sense the expenditure of magic, to know when or how the world around or within you is being changed." He paused for a moment, considering. "Why does the thought bother you so much?"

Sarah stared at him for a moment. Was there any way to describe this in a way that he could understand? "Everybody has the right to their memories, it's personal and private. To just go in and change all that… did you ever wonder if maybe you're deleting a treasured moment, or taking away an experience that is integral to who that person is? Moreover, how can anyone trust you when they know you have this power?" Quietly she added, "How can _I_ trust you if I don't know what moments are real or what moments are missing?"

He flinched. The mighty Goblin King actually flinched at the words of a nineteen-year-old mortal. A pained expression flashed across his face briefly but then his eyes closed, effectively shutting her out. When he reopened them there was something raw in their depths, something confused, perhaps even frightened. "What would you have me do, Sarah?" he asked lowly, his voice coming out as a deep whisper. "This is part of who I am, it cannot be changed so easily. It is not always a bad power to extend, either; sometimes it is better for a person to forget something. Today with your family, for instance; to face the reality of what was going on may have unsettled them, perhaps even causing harm with time. I put them at ease, let them see what they wanted to see."

She considered his words. "Maybe, under certain circumstances, I could understand how it _might_ be alright, but that doesn't put me at ease. What about the other times you use it?"

* * *

_Her trust was slipping away like sand through an hourglass, making him want to roar in frustration. What could he do? It wasn't as though he went about altering people's memories, willy-nilly! Why was it such a distressing thought for her?_

_Because she couldn't trust him. _

_The thought cut him like a knife. So much separated their standards of conduct, perhaps too much. He was selfish by nature, but as a king he tried to make all decisions by the same measure: was it the right course of action for his people and would it produce the desired effect? How could he explain to this darling girl, who had grown up with feminism and independence, that he had been taught from the first to not consider the emotions of one but rather the good of all? _

_It was agony to be only across the table from Sarah, and yet feel her slipping further away with each passing moment. "What would you have me do?" he repeated, feeling a coldness within, despite the warmth of his drink._

_She looked down at the sweetly carved wood between them, and took a sip from her own drink. The few moments that she took to consider were nothing but torture. _

* * *

"I don't think I can trust you, Jareth," she finally answered. Sarah knew she wouldn't be able to survive one moment to the next, never knowing what was real, never knowing what he could possibly be doing to her that she wasn't aware of.

* * *

_Something within him almost broke. It would have been a pain the likes of which he had never experienced, but Jareth was thinking fast. This couldn't be the end, he had tried too hard to fail now; this was just a bump in the road, something they would get over if he could just think._

* * *

"If I could sufficiently teach you," Jareth finally broke the silence, "how to recognize an invasion into your mind, would you trust me then?" There was pleading in his voice, maybe even desperation. She had never heard him sound so out of control. In ways that she couldn't understand, she felt pained for being the one to reduce him to such vulnerability. 

Sarah was frightened of what he could do, but Jareth was frightened of losing her. Did that make them even, balance things out? Would things change if she accepted his offer? No matter what, she had a debt to pay back and she had no doubt he would collect all, so would she merely be making more trouble for herself if she refused?

It wasn't an easy question to answer. Over the past day or so they had started to open up to each other and Sarah had to admit that the man she had seen beneath the wild nature of the Goblin King had interested her; she wanted to learn more because, despite her fear, she was curious.

"Would you teach me?" she asked, finally reaching her decision. If she turned away now she would wonder for the rest of her life, and she would regret.

Everything about Jareth seemed to come back to life; he was nearly painfully vibrant. "To the very best of my ability," he promised solemnly.

Several minutes passed, both of them making an effort to lighten the mood by chatting amiably about things that had happened earlier that day, neither one quite ready to move back into discussion. Jareth stood and went to the kitchen to check on whatever it was that he was concocting. He returned, setting two large bowls on the table, containing a rich-looking broth and an assortment of vegetables. Now that she was paying attention, Sarah could smell the heartiness in the air, the wonderful aroma of a meal fussed over just so.

…Still, she had to ask. "What is it?"

Jareth shook his head, restraining a laugh. "It's stew, Sarah, which is impossible to spoil… unless you are my father."

She stared at him for a moment. "There's a story behind that, isn't there?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

Sarah pushed, "And you're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No." Jareth mock-shuddered, "My father would, no doubt, kill me should I ever choose to recount that tale."

"Later?" she pleaded.

He grinned wickedly at her, "When I can be sure that he has no way of listening in."

* * *

_Her laugh was full of such delight that for a moment he felt as if he were a young boy again, going behind his father's back to have an adventure._

_Dinner passed in a companionable silence, occasional snippets of conversation flowing between the two. The moment was beautiful in its simplicity, but they had at least one other hurdle to get over tonight. Sarah nearly snapped to attention once they had finished eating, her eyes peering at him expectantly._

_Jareth let out a sigh and gathered his thoughts. "To understand why these strange things keep happening to you, you need to understand our connection first." She merely nodded, so he continued. "A long time ago our people lived very close together. The Aboveground was full of magic, and we were able to coexist. During those days it was not unusual for a human to retain some small piece of magic, which, over the years, would build up. This power would usually resonate with a single wish, one desire, and eventually discharge, sending a calling to whichever person of my kind who would be best suited to fulfill that need. But once our realms were separated, these callings ceased; there was barely any magic left in your world, and no one strong enough to make their desires know across two separate worlds."_

"_I saw you the day you were born," he went on quietly. "You couldn't have been more than a few hours old, but you had sent out a call for me. Those tiny blue eyes locked with mine and, somehow, I _knew_ you were different," his tone was tender; of all the things that happened with Sarah, it was that first meeting that he cherished the most. His life had changed after that, his all-consuming boredom nothing but a memory._

"_After that day I made sure to keep on eye on you, and I watched while, with each passing year, your summons became stronger. There is power sleeping within that body, Sarah," Jareth waved his hand toward her._

_She looked absolutely stunned, not that he could blame her, it was a lot to take in. "I have magic?" she sputtered out._

_Jareth smiled, "No, you have great potential. Until all the leashes keeping it locked inside are snapped, all you'll ever have is potential." There was no need to mention, at this point, that once that happened she would need a magical environment to survive._

* * *

Sarah had the power do something amazing with her life, to become more than she had ever dreamed possible, all she had to do was figure out how to bring it out of hiding. She looked up at Jareth; he was the only one who could possibly know what to do. "Can you…" she trailed off, wondering for a brief minute if asking for favors was a great way to create even more debt for herself. 

"Help you?" he supplied. "I already am. And once that magic is free I shall teach you how to command it."

She stared at him oddly. Jareth offering to do things… how quickly their relationship had a way of changing!

He stared back at her. "Uncontrolled magic can be a dangerous thing, not only to others but to yourself as well. There is no one I would trust to teach you properly." His conviction was endearing.

Her world was changing, Sarah realized. It was changing fast, but not always in unpleasant ways; before her, she had the opportunity to explore paths that the human race had not walked down in centuries. Still, something niggled at her, "Why are we connected? And what exactly does that mean?"

"I'd like to think that it's because you need me," Jareth answered. "Why we are connect is something that has continued to elude me for many years. How we are connect… we share an empathic link." She continued to stare at him blankly, so he carried on. "We are able, to some extent, to sense each other's emotions, when we are wanted or need."

Her mind was still cheering over the fact that she was going to learn how to use magic, but she had one other question. "Okay, so what does all this have to do with how I keep popping up in places I shouldn't be?"

He chuckled lightly. "I can't be entirely sure, but I do believe that we are both to blame on that account. This morning I'm guessing that through our link you sensed my desire to spend time with you, and your slowly awakening powers responded to that on their own."

Sarah's head was spinning. Less than a week ago she had just been a normal girl spending winter break with her family; now she was in a very complicated relationship and about to become the Goblin King's pupil.

* * *

_He was pleased that she hadn't thought to ask about the many years of observing her that he had skipped over; they had had enough confrontation tonight already. Looking across the table Jareth couldn't have been more pleased with what he saw: Sarah, looking dazed but pleased, the warm food still raising a blush in her cheeks, and excitement burning in her eyes. And trust. It was wary, she still hadn't reached a complete decision about him, but he had given her a lot tonight, made commitments that she was looking forward to. _

_Gazing at such pure loveliness, Jareth decided that couldn't, didn't even want to, help himself. He rose and offered her his hand; she accepted it after only a moment of thought, and let out a strangled laugh when he swept her up into a twirling dance._

* * *

A/N: God, I hate this chapter! I was really looking forward to writing it, and all that came out was this dreg. Sorry. 

You have no idea how much I adore you all for reviewing!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	31. Discussions on the Floor

Chapter Thirty-One: Discussions on the Floor.

_It quickly became apparent that, though the kitchen and dining-nook were quite spacious for their specific purposes, they were simply not roomy enough to dance in. _

_That didn't stop Jareth from trying, though. _

_He held Sarah loosely, but close, and carefully waltzed them in wide circuits around the table. When one of them came too close to brushing against a wall or piece of furniture all it would take to avoid it was a quick sidestep. Eventually their dance began to resemble some strange cross between a waltz and a tango._

_Sarah, for her part, followed the movements well but it was rather apparent that her thoughts were largely focused elsewhere._

_Which simply wouldn't do, he thought wickedly. _

* * *

It was hard to come to terms with the fact that, somewhere deep inside of her, there was an asset she had never known about. But it also made sense, in a way; the world had always felt so cut and dry, devoid of something that she had desperately been searching for. The man wrapped around her was not easy to understand, doubly hard to trust, but with his help she would be able to pursue a wild and free craft that she had only ever dreamed about. And, though her reasons were mostly selfish, she would give him that small bit of faith until he gave her a blatant reason not to. 

"You are not paying attention," was the only warning that Sarah got before she was pulled into a tightly controlled dip. The only thing that kept her from screeching at the unexpected movement was the hand pressed to her lower back, offering firm but gentle support, and the hand that held her own, casual and relaxed but tight enough to suggest he wasn't going to let go without a damn good reason.

"Let me up," she grouched when Jareth continued to hold her there rather than move back into the dance.

"Are you paying attention?" he teased, shaking her up and down a few inches but never offering her enough space to climb upright.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "In another minute I'm going to go limp, and you're either going to be an ass and let me drop or I'm taking you down with me and we'll _both_ end up on the floor," she threatened, already bracing herself for the fall, and hoping that he wouldn't choose to create his own third option and hang onto her dead weight.

* * *

"_There's something else that we need to discuss," Jareth said from his position on the floor, propped up against a table leg._

_Sarah turned to him and glared, still blushing from the impossible way that he had chosen to cushion her fall, using magic to roll them in that split second so that she landed heavily on top of him. They had remained that way for several confused seconds, him pinned between her and the floor and her resting upon nearly every inch of him. Pressed together so intimately there could be no mistaking the physical response she evoked in him, and she had blushed madly before jumping off him as though she had been burned. Jareth grit his teeth as he gazed at her, trying to ignore the body's desire for flesh to intertwine with flesh; it was easy enough for the mind to call for patience but the body had it's own primal drives. There could be no large mistakes where she was concerned though, one forward action too many and no amount of bribery or sweet-talking would keep her around._

_Sarah continued to blush, but her glare lessened and she finally responded with an eloquent, "What?"_

"_We've run into time problems, dearest," he replied, watching the way her eyes flashed and her face became guarded. 'Oh no, little minx,' he thought, 'if I'm making commitments, then so are you.'_

"_I'm already giving you thirteen hours, you're not getting anything beyond that," came her emphatic statement._

_Jareth shrugged. "I can appreciate the sentiment," he soothed, "time is costly to all of us. However, recent developments need to be taken into account." An hourglass appeared, almost an exact replica of Sarah's, aside from the fact that the glass was blue rather than green. "Our social obligations have already begun to interfere with the payment of your debt and the time it will take to teach you what you need to know, properly, will only complicate matters."_

_Her eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting, then?" Sarah asked tightly. _

_He sincerely hoped she wasn't about to be inflexible, as far as he was concerned this was the best offer she was going to get. "A partition in time, no longer acknowledging the time spent Aboveground."_

_If she had been a cat, Sarah probably would have been raising her fur on end and hissing distastefully. _

"_Hear me out," Jareth overrode her slowly mounting complaints. "What I'm going to teach you is not always easy to pick up, and you're not going to have all this wonderful time," he tapped a finger against the hourglass, "if it's being squandered elsewhere."_

_She eyed him for a few minutes. "You're just trying to get out of owing me explanations, aren't you?" Sarah asked crossly._

_He sighed. "The agreement that we reached was serviceable for the short amount of time in which it was employed, but the situation has changed." Jareth paused for a moment. "And no, I'm not trying to avoid anything. If we are to work together then we must reach an understanding; I wouldn't dare to teach you anything beyond basic control if you didn't feel you could trust me to do that. If the only way that I can gain that trust is to answer every little question that pops into your head then, so be it, I will."_

_Sarah began to ease out of her defensive crouch a bit, but continued to stare at him warily from where she was seated._

_When no counterattack was mounted, Jareth continued with hope. "There's no telling how long any of this may take; we should be able to get through the basics, but beyond that it depends."_

"_On what?" she asked quickly. He could almost see the amazing displays of magic she was envisioning._

"_Whether your power has begun to manifest by then and if you're willing to spend extra time with me." His voice dropped a bit lower, replaying the words he had been told as a young boy, "Magic can be a dangerous study, but if you are willing to extend the effort, in the end it can pay you back a thousand times over. You must be dedicated, committed to your cause, or the lessons will merely consume you." She looked stunned enough that he felt the need to add, "There is very little room for mistakes in magic, Sarah. Most spells can only be undone by their caster."_

* * *

She considered. It was a risk no matter what way you looked at it. Spending more time with him was a bit unsettling, though not surprising, and the material she was to learn had the potential to be dangerous. Sarah had the choice to turn away, but not the will; Jareth's warnings were powerful, but not strong enough to override her curiosity. 

With a glance at the hourglass, she asked, "How much time do I still owe you?"

He turned and studied the sand for a moment. "Ten and a half hours; why?"

Because it didn't add up, she thought sourly. Even only counting half the time they had spent Aboveground, there was no possible way that they had only been together for a cumulative two and a half hours! "When I have dreams that are Underground, do those count?"

Jareth studied her for a moment that was longer than comfortable, his eyes briefly flickering down to the thin scar in the palm of her hand. "If I am present, then it does. Sand will never pass through that glass when we are apart, no matter where either of us is."

No, she thought, that still didn't quite cover everything. "Okay, I'll bite. Why is there so little time in the bottom of the glass?" Sarah asked in agitation.

He chuckled. "Time does not flow the same in both of our realms. Thirteen hours of your time is worth more than thirteen of mine."

She shot him a look of outrage. These were the sort of things that you were supposed to tell people before they started paying you back, not after!

"Think back, Sarah," he added, "you ran the entire Labyrinth, but when you returned home only a handful of hours had passed. Most of the sand in that bottom bulb has been counted from the Aboveground." Jareth seemed entirely too pleased.

"That's not fair!" It burst out of her lips before she had a chance to stop it. That single phrase had gotten her nothing but trouble, Sarah realized. She only hoped it wasn't about to do the same right now.

Jareth laughed. "Dear girl, most of this time will not be for my own personal gain," he smirked. "I imagine the vast majority of it will be spent teaching you control."

Sarah didn't want to but the pout formed, regardless. It was still a dirty trick, she raved internally, even if most of the time was going in her favor now, he could have warned her about the discrepancies that separated their dimensions.

* * *

_There would still be time enough for an hour of leisure here and there, Jareth decided. All in all, the situation worked as much to her advantage as it did to his. What had once been a nearly intolerable debt was now a commitment that Sarah was looking forward to, and the experience would simply draw them closer together. With any luck, this was what would ease her trust away from the breaking point enough to lead her into a more meaningful relationship. The first thing he would have to work on was not setting them into rigid boundaries of student and teacher, he decided._

_After a moment, Jareth caught sight of Sarah's pouting. It was cute, in an entirely undignified sort of way, the kind of habit that he was going to have to break her of unless they were alone. Now that he had a valid claim to her it would not be as risky for her to be seen Underground, which meant that she was going to have to learn a thing or two about the standards of his society. _

"_Now stop that," he commanded; not only was the expression a bad habit, but the pushed-out lower lip was too much of an invitation to things that he was overly aware she wasn't offering. "One does not pout when they are apprenticed to the Dream Weaver." He narrowed his eyes when she snickered, briefly regretting having used such an old title._

"_I suppose one doesn't giggle at the Dream Weaver's expense, either?" she asked._

"_No, one doesn't," he replied with a frown. On the upside, Jareth thought, it appeared as though he wasn't going to have to worry about them being separated by roles; if anything, it he was going to have to fight for his authority._

* * *

A/N: Short, but functional. Really should have been part of last chapter, but time was against me. It was pretty dialogue heavy, so I'm not too sure if I like it or not. What do you all think? 

By the way, I'm currently looking for anyone who would be willing to draw some art to accompany this story. Any takers?

Thank you so very much for all your reviews. The response to last chapter was wonderful, even if most of you _did_ make it clear that I'm a lunatic for not liking my own work. Well, I can certainly live with being crazy and wrong all the time, as long as you guys are enjoying yourselves!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except, apparently, the undivided interest of Rah (and several other readers too, I believe).


	32. Not the Best Excuse

Chapter Thirty-Two: Not the Best Excuse. 

_It was customary for the pupil to stay with the tutor, but Jareth had a feeling that the suggestion would not be well received. Parting again was hard but not nearly as painful, knowing that she would be back soon. Breaking the moment had been most unwelcome, but it had been getting late and there were arrangements that he would have to see to. First and foremost was an update on how things were progressing in Court._

_Jareth's senses reached out for his stand-in and instantly felt the faint annoyance that answered. He could commiserate; he usually felt much the same when dealing with the noble houses. Another quick pulse of strength brought the other before him. Haughty features, tight in frustration, looked to the King in expectation._

"_How do things go in the Court?" Jareth asked, trying not to let his obvious relief at not having to sit through so many dry speeches become too apparent._

_The other sighed and began to pace. "Awful!" he near roared. "They whine and complain, speak of great changes and yet they are so slow to action; I would gladly strangle every last one of them!"_

"_You are in luck then, my dear shade," Jareth responded kindly, "for I bring good news. I would like you to postpone the rest of this season's session."_

_The creature before him looked startled. "You bring your courtship to the public eye, then?" He frowned, "Why change our plan so soon?"_

"_No," a sigh burst from the lips of the King, "I bring no courtship to public knowledge; my interactions with Sarah are still too unstable for that kind of attention. What I bring, shadow, is an apprentice; I'll be able to ease her into society this way, before anyone in the Kingdom begins to suspect anything."_

_Laughter filled the air between them, "There will always be suspicion! Your Court will be on the poor girl like a starved wolf."_

_Jareth took up the shade's pacing, nervous energy and agitation following him every step. "Speculation I can deal with, there's still room for doubt in that. It's better that she learns to face them now, before they become any sort of problem." He paused, turning curious eyes to his companion. "Truly, do you believe the rumors will be too much for her?" He couldn't stand the thought of Sarah becoming comfortable with him, only to turn away because of gossip._

_Blue eyes closed for a moment of contemplation, before the other answered, "A careful man need not worry; as her master you are honor bound to protect her from whatever you perceive as a danger. Keep a sharp tongue with your people and a careful touch with our Lady, and there should be nothing to worry about."_

_Sound advice, Jareth decided. If he could keep the Court on its' toes then integrating Sarah into the Underground would be no harder than she made it. _

"_If you please, my Lord," the other finally broke the silence, "I would like to return to my post as soon as your news is delivered." There was something hopeful in his tone, and the King understood only too well that suffering through Court sessions had grated against the shade's natural instincts; he would be relieved to find himself back among familiar settings._

_With a nod, Jareth warned, "There are repairs to be made; the Labyrinth has begun to fade in both of our absences. Perhaps a few improvements could be seen to as well?"_

_The other smiled eerily, dangerously. "It would be my pleasure, as well you know."_

* * *

Sarah let out a sigh as she fidgeted in bed, unable to fall asleep.

Magic! She didn't want to wait; it felt like the world was just at her fingertips, so close and yet still out of reach. Jareth had warned that it would be a hard study though, she reminded herself, it would take care and concentration. With horrifying clarity, she pictured her latest algebra class and groaned, praying that she wouldn't prove to be so painfully inept.

The door opened with a quiet creek, and in the dim shadows of the hallway Sarah thought she saw the small figure of her brother, before it swung closed again. Bare, babyish feet shuffled over her carpet and a few muffled sniffles reached her ears. Toby stopped at the side of her bed, reaching around the stuffed teddy, which he had buried his face in, to poke her side. "Sarah?" came his whisper, made even quieter by his bear-shield. Another sniffle rang out, and suddenly she understood all too well –"Sarah?" he nearly asked on a sob—Toby was crying.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that her little brother was only five years old, he spoke well for someone of his age and acted with a maturity that was far beyond his years, but for all that he was still just a child, barely even out of his baby years. It was times like this where that became painfully obvious; Toby didn't cry often, but when he did it was like a veil had been lifted and the child beneath all that mystery was revealed: just a small baby boy desperately looking for comfort.

Sarah sat up with a frown. "What's wrong, kiddo?" she asked while helping him to scramble on top of her bed.

He curled into her lap, his small body shaking with his silent tears. "Something bad," he replied. She waited for him to elaborate, and tried not to frown even more when he didn't. After a lengthy paused he lowered the teddy bear and pinned her with his terrified blue gaze. The tears were pouring down Toby's cheeks like rain and, despite the flush that the crying was bringing out, he looked sickly pale. "I don't know, just something bad," he answered her unspoken question, his breath hitching every few words.

Sarah wrapped her arms around him, trying to calm down the torrent of sobs that the short phrase seemed to produce. Her heart ached to see him so distraught, and for a moment she wondered why he had come to her rather than his own mother. It didn't matter, she decided, the import thing right now was figuring out what was wrong. She hazarded a guess, "Bad dreams?"

Toby nodded into her shoulder and his little hands flexed convulsively from where they had clenched into her shirt. "There are always voices, quiet like when mom turns down the TV to talk on the phone," he let out a shudder, "but they were loud tonight, laughing about something bad."

Her arms closed over him tighter. It was silly for Toby to get so worked up over a dream, but something about the way he had spoken worried her; something in those words chilled her, sending shivers racing down Sarah's spine. Her brother had amazing intuition; if something bothered him then it was usually with good reason. And here he sat, she thought, practically shaking apart and not even knowing why.

Shadows seemed to jump out that night, twisting and writhing around the room like secret nightmares. It was a long time before either of them dared to close their eyes long enough to sleep.

* * *

The morning dawned painfully early, sunlight leaking through Sarah's curtains, helping and hindering the shadows all at once. She cracked a tired eye open to gaze at the clock; it's blazing digital numbers declared it to be 6:50AM. With a groan, she tried rolling over but realized that Toby had curled into her side sometime during the night.

Small fingers brushed her upper-arm, drawing a startled yelp out of her. Sarah's head whipped around to find Toby staring at her arm oddly. With dread, she realized that the sleeve of her nightshirt had been pushed up while she slept, Jareth's tattoo now clearly displayed to the world.

"What is it?" he asked, tracing the pattern with his eyes.

"It's nothing," she replied quickly, panicked.

Toby gave her a look.

"Alright, I'm not sure what it is," Sarah amended. Worriedly, she continued, "Your mom and dad can't know about, okay? I can't explain what it is or how it really got there, and they'd just get mad." Mad? More like they'd pitch a fit. Karen would, in all probability, disown her, shiny new boyfriend or not. She pulled the sleeve down, trying hard not to think about how her father would react. He was overly indulgent with her, since she was his first and only daughter, but somehow she knew that body art would not go over very well.

Toby shrugged and leapt off the bed. "You shouldn't let your boyfriend do something like that if you don't want him to."

Sarah watched him shuffle to his own room, a frown settling on her lips. How could Toby possibly know that it had been Jareth's doing?

* * *

_It had been a productive night, Jareth decided with a smile. Court had been postponed, the Labyrinth was back to its wonderfully terrifying self, and, for the first time in months, someone had been wished away. The chase hadn't thrilled him nearly as much as it should have but then, very few things did these days when Sarah wasn't involved. _

_His gaze stretched out across the land before him, the balcony off his Study providing an unrivaled view of the lands just beyond the Labyrinth. Being in the Underground had never felt so good; there was something about the mortal realm that made him itch, didn't settle with him right. The sooner that he could keep Sarah away from that dead world, the better._

_A knock at the door drew a sigh out of Jareth. He wanted nothing more than to grab the woman and begin their lessons, but for now he would have to deal with the steady flow of curious subjects seeking a quiet audience. Perhaps hiding the Lady he intended to marry under the guise of student had not been such a wise choice after all; and who could blame them, he thought sourly, it wasn't as though he had ever taken an apprentice before._

* * *

Toby flashed back and forth between being giddy and frightfully withdrawn. Sarah spent the day playing board games with him and watching the snow fall, keeping a careful eye on his emotions. She could tell that the dream hadn't entirely left him yet, not when he sat for such long periods looking utterly lost. It was odd how terror had given way to confusion, panic was still lingering in the back of his eyes somewhere, but more and more it was being replaced by perplexity.

She also spent the day nervously wondering when, and if, Jareth would arrive. For how often they ended up talking about time, it was amazing that neither of them had ever broached the subject of anything resembling a schedule.

* * *

_Jareth drew the line when his own father showed up. He was willing to lie to his subjects until he was blue in the face, but Oran deserved respect, and would know if he was lying anyway. Too many years pilfering an unguarded kitchen had taught the older man how to read his son just a bit too well._

_Oran glided into the room like a midnight fog, settling on the edge of Jareth's desk with the patronizing ease of someone who had offered far too much counsel from that position. "So?" he asked quietly in humored tones._

_Jareth was instantly defensive. "It is none of your concern," he replied. He loved his father dearly, held him in higher regard than he had ever held anyone, but there were some things he was absolutely unwilling to share. A father's amusement at his son's clumsy courtship was the last thing he wanted to deal with today._

_Oran snorted cynically. "It most certainly is, boy. If I don't have a name to put to this sudden interest, your mother will kill me." He smiled, "She sends you her best wishes, by the way, and urges you to provide her with some grandchildren."_

_A groan broke from Jareth's lips as he thought of his overly matronly mother getting a hold of Sarah. "How is it that I can fool an entire kingdom full of people, and yet you two know with barely a guess?"_

"_Your brothers send their best wishes as well," Oran laughed over the renewed groaning. "We're your family, child, how can you expect us not to know?" He smiled fondly down at his son, "You've never had the patience to teach anyone anything; you must truly love this creature if you are willing to again endure the hell you lived through when you were apprenticed to me."_

"_It's easier for the master than the student," Jareth stated with more abject terror than confidence._

"_You scared me silly more time than I care to count. Good luck," Oran offered then, after a slight pause, added, "on both accounts." He rose, gliding out of the room in much the same way he had come in, but hesitated at the door. "A name?" he asked, no doubt to sate the curiosity of his wife, as well as his own._

"_Sarah," Jareth replied in a drawl that was quickly becoming familiar; slow, savoring, full of longing._

* * *

A/N: Not quite what I sat down to do, but satisfying nonetheless. I didn't mean to introduce Oran until much later, but he was impatient (you'll get the proper introduction once Sarah meets him). Magic lessons start next chapter; everyone ready for it?

Thanks for all the reviews! I'm overwhelmed, and completely giddy about the fact that I've hit over 400. You all rock!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I own a few side characters, that's all.


	33. Mixing

Chapter Thirty-Three: Mixing.

_The shade worked in silence. It wasn't the way he particularly cared for things; oh no, he was a great lover of all that was loud and disruptive, which was part of why the goblins had been so endearing, but it was the way that things had to be done this time. An eerie hush settled over the Labyrinth, a hunger for more of the sport that it had witnessed over the night, a desire for boundless improvements. Muffled laughter and quiet snickers floated gently through the winding paths, the originators having already tucked themselves into inky shadows, waiting. Waiting for one thing only._

_A breathless anticipation rolled through the twisted maze, eager for the one called Sarah._

* * *

Toby whimpered in his sleep, trapped in one nightmare or another. His bed was almost too narrow to hold the frantically tossing toddler. Sarah watched it all with a pained heart, wondering what personal hell her sweet little brother was enduring. Somehow, deep down, she knew these weren't the normal dreams of a child, the brief frantic moments of being chased by wicked dragons or headless horsemen. 

It was more. It was worse. It was _darker_.

Another whimper tore itself from the throat of her dear brother and Sarah began to reach over with the intention of waking him up. Toby rolled in her direction and she quickly pulled back, as though touching him would burn her, a startled gasp exploding from between her lips.

He was _smiling_. A wicked, dangerous smile was curving the cherubic visage of her little brother into something downright demonic. The pained and frightened noises were escaping him faster now but the smile continued to twist his face, as though the mind and the rest of the body were completely out of sync. It was a horrifying duality, the near screams of a young child coupled with the mature expression of malignant content.

Dread and fear held Sarah paralyzed as she watched Toby's small muscles pull taut, his back arching to a degree that nearly sprung him out of the bed. He slackened for brief moment then began to flail anew, fighting off whatever terrible beast his dreams had brought to him. Something in the corner of the room toppled from its shelf and shatter on the floor, drawing a startled jump out of Sarah. Toby's eyes snapped open at the noise, unfocused and unseeing. He blinked, and his gaze flew straight to her. For a moment his throat worked convulsively, and she had the feeling that he was about to be sick, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was a harsh, "Leave."

Sarah stared at him in shock. Like hell; she wasn't about to slink away when her brother was so shaken! "Toby," she began, but he had jumped up on his bed, trying to leveling their gazes.

"_LEAVE!_" he bellowed, and she knew that she wouldn't have dared to in a million years had there not been something so painfully desperate in his blue eyes. She turned quickly on her heels, the door almost completely shut behind her when she heard the quiet childish plea, "But don't go too far."

* * *

Sleep didn't come easy that night and, truthfully, Sarah was surprised that it came at all. Jareth hadn't come that day, for which she wasn't sure if she was annoyed or relieved, and Toby was acting as though he were possessed by the devil. If she strained her ears just a bit she could hear him across the hall, alternating between chocked sobs and muffled laughter, utter silence and then a ruckus so terrible that she was amazed her parents hadn't woken up. The worst though, was the feeling of utter helplessness; she had vowed to be there for her little brother, but she didn't know what was wrong, didn't know how to make it better. 

When the morning was finally kind enough to dawn, the only thing Sarah was filled with was an impending sense of disaster.

* * *

_Jareth hadn't been cornered by intensely curious housekeepers since the days that he had lived under his father's roof and, truth be told, the boyish response of immediate guilt had never quite left him. His butler, Amyl, had effectively trapped him in his own library, politely inquiring if he should see to having a room prepared for the Lady, using quite tones that suggested if the answer was in the negative he would in no way help Jareth stem the flow of irate chambermaids. "The castle has been oppressively empty, as of late," Amyl had added, "the presence of a woman would do everyone a bit of good."_

_By the Stars, did _everyone_ know he had more interest in Sarah than merely teaching her?_

_The butler's question was valid though, and while Jareth had no intention of outright forcing Sarah to remain there during the lessons, it wouldn't hurt to have a suite ready, to get her used to the idea that she could, was even encouraged to, stay. Besides, Amyl didn't look as though a no would particularly stop him from making preparations anyway. The butler was a steely man of approximately middle age who had spent many years in the past working for Oran; he was a kind creature but could remember a time when the current King had barely even come up to the man's knees, which had the unfortunate side effect of making him obstinately paternal rather than subservient. _

_With a nod Jareth granted himself at least the illusion of authority over his housing staff. He only hoped that Amyl would be decent enough to take the brunt of the avalanche he had, no doubt, just started._

* * *

Sarah had just barely finished pulling a shirt over her head when Jareth swept through her door. Even as a human he was nothing less than breathtaking, she mused. The dark shirt stretched across broad shoulders, hugged his torso perfectly, and flowed to a stop just before reaching narrow hips where a pair of equally dark pants encased what she was beginning to suspect were powerful thighs. His hair flared out wildly in the perfect bedraggled-male look, but the strawberry blonde locks always tripped her up for a moment. Blue eyes flashed in an amused face, darkening briefly as they scanned her from head to toe. 

"As greatly as I appreciate the view, my dear," Jareth rumbled, taking the few short strides to reach her, "let's not give the whole world a free glimpse of what your shirt hides."

She stared at him confusedly, then blushed when he pulled her shirt the rest of the way down, realizing that she had stopped halfway through the motion when he had appeared. His hands lingered around her hips and Sarah was torn between letting them stay there or quickly stepping away before her suddenly addled brain could force her into doing something stupid.

Jareth saved her from the decision though, dropping both hands and taking the tiniest step back. With something of a strained smile he offered her his arm. "We have work to do, I believe."

Sarah slipped her hand to his elbow in a flash. "I'm looking forward to it," she replied, trying to hide at least a little of her boundless enthusiasm.

Out in the hall they crossed paths with Toby, who seemed to shrink and yet somehow grow livelier all at once. Sarah chided herself for letting excitement make her forget about her little brother, he could need her after all, but the boy was already ducking back into his room and Jareth was steadily leading her to the closest exit from the house.

* * *

_The shade looped a few more paths into one another and whispered encouraging words to some deadly looking plants. From atop a stone wall the human prince sat watching, thinking._

* * *

They had walked down the block chatting quietly, before Jareth took them Underground after being sure her parents could no longer see them. 

The room they appeared in was completely unfamiliar to Sarah. It was large and circular, with open ceilings and windows taking up half the wall space. Impossibly curved bookshelves framed the remaining walls, books fitting together snuggly at angles that she knew were logically impossible. A curling staircase rose up from the center of the room, connecting to a series of catwalks and ladders far overhead. Even though she knew they were all at different levels, looking up from the center of the room the different walkways above seemed to form the intricate web of a dream catcher.

* * *

_Jareth held in a gusty sigh as he caught sight of a gaggle of maids hovering just beyond the doors. He had been hoping to keep these lessons relatively private, mostly out of the selfishness of wanting Sarah to himself, but also for the sake of her concentration. It would be a miracle if they got anything done while the entire house staff swooped in and out with a myriad of excuses just to get a glimpse of the Lady._

_A small touch of magic sent the doors quietly closing, but not before he caught one or two disdainful glances at the curiously exploring Sarah. His eyes focused on her, sweeping from ebony hair to sneaker-clad toe, and prayed that their reaction had more to do with her attire than her species because, heaven help them, he _would not_ be a forgiving man if she felt in any way slighted by their reception. Another brief flicker of power, and Sarah was left gazing down at the sweet but simple gown that had suddenly taken the place of her clothing. It was relatively plain, a dove gray dress of few adornments, and hopefully the first of many gifts. Jareth lamented briefly that it wasn't anywhere near as extravagant as she deserved but, with any luck, he would be able to increase the wealth of his small tokens without questions as everyone began to grow comfortable with the situation. _

* * *

She didn't dare ask about the dress; it was either a silent slight against the way she usually dressed or a thoughtful way of helping her feel a little less out of place. Either way, Sarah really didn't care to know. 

Jareth sat down in a plush chair near a low table and motioned for her to join him in the opposite seat. "We start small, Sarah," he said quietly once she had begun to nervously straighten the folds of her new outfit, "not because it is easiest or perhaps the only thing you may be able to do right now, but because every lesson shall build upon the last, so we must start at the very bottom and work our way up." His voice had reached a steady and low tone, it was peaceful and yet she shivered at the thought that if he just dropped a little bit lower he'd be purring more than speaking.

She nodded, then asked, "So what's up first, then?"

Jareth gazed at her with such intensity that it was as though he were looking through her. "There is place within each of us, an inner world, where our power comes from. I'm going to show it to you, allow you to acclimate to it and reach it on your own."

His eyes seemed to become painfully bright as everything else faded away; when they to began to disappear as well Sarah panicked. There was nothing around her, nothing to hang on to, nothing to center herself with. Her breathing became labored when it started to feel like she herself was fading.

"Relax, Sarah," Jareth's voice echoed oddly, as though she were hearing the words through two sets of ears, "you're sitting in a chair, perfectly safe. The first time is always the most overwhelming, don't let it frighten you."

But how could she not be frightened when it felt like she was losing herself? "Jareth?" she called out uncertainly. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, maybe humans weren't meant to know magic.

"I'm here," he soothed, voice rumbling gently. "Just a little longer, you're already passed the worst of it."

The words had scarcely left his mouth before the consuming darkness around her gave way to light. It was a cave of sorts, crystals and gems embedded in the rocky walls reflected an entire rainbow of colors, flitting over her and filling the cavern with a trembling warmth.

"That journey must be taken every time you wish to see your inner-self," Jareth spoke lowly. "It is a reminder to all of us that if we are not careful, the magic which lay beyond has the power to destroy us." His voice picked up slightly, moving on to lighter topics, "What do you feel, Sarah?"

She gazed around at the dancing lights, trying to ignore the feeling of the armrests she could no longer see. "It's kind of… warm, but restless," she finally replied.

"That would be your magic, my dear," he said, the vaguest hint of pride in his voice. "It feels restless because you have subconsciously confined it; we will work on freeing your potential later. Do you feel anything else?"

Sarah wasn't even exactly sure what she was looking for and she was starting to feel itchy, like her skin was becoming too tight. "Further down there's something cooler, more agitated." As she pushed toward that other sense, it suddenly felt like her body was all wrong; lean in places that she was round, longer limbs, different hair, different clothing. Her vision swam and she abruptly found herself back in the circular room.

Jareth smiled apologetically, "The more you become accustomed to it, the longer you will be able to stay." After she stopped blinking to clear her eyes, he continued, "That coolness you felt was me; it is part of how we are connected. Magic usually seats itself in emotion; that tunnel will resonate with the strength of whatever either of us are feeling."

Sarah shook her head, but the feeling of something _extra_ refused to leave her.

"It won't fade, sweetheart," Jareth smothered a laugh. "You put up a mental wall to block that cavern out, but now that you've been there you will always be aware of it."

Startled, she realized that she could feel his good humor more than she could hear it. The emotion swept through her and she probably would have completely mistaken it for her own had it not been wrapped up in that distinctive coolness. Sarah looked to Jareth with new eyes; he seemed to glow around the edges now, and she could sense the ebb and flow of his feelings mixing with hers. As the quite minutes drew by, and she tried to acclimate to the new awareness, something uneasy swamped through her.

"So would you like to learn more, or have you been completely frightened out of it?" Jareth was smiling, but underneath the lazy expression Sarah realized that the unease she felt was his nervousness.

"The first time is the worst?" she asked for clarification.

He nodded. "I, personally, refused to talk to my father for a week after he showed me that."

"Alright then, let's keep going." Her senses were overloaded, a tangle of conflicting feelings, but they were slowly sorting themselves out. She would go on, that much she knew; there were greater things to learn and, if nothing else, Sarah had just gained perhaps the greatest insight into Jareth she would ever get.

* * *

When Sarah finally made it back to her room later that day, there was a hastily scrawled note resting on her pillow. 

_'You went too far._'

* * *

A/N: Okay, so that was sort of a baby lesson, but she hasn't really unlocked her powers yet and Jareth still wants to get their link under control. 

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came from the movie Labyrinth.


	34. So Close

Chapter Thirty-Four: So Close.

Toby had locked himself in his room, and Sarah had tried talking to him but he hadn't answered. The other side of the door had remained chillingly silent, and now she knew why.

He hadn't been in his room.

She couldn't quite figure out how he had managed to lock the door and then leave or how he intended to get back in without having their father pick the lock. Sarah shook her head; it was beside the point anyway. What mattered was that Toby was hiding in the basement, tucked into the far corner of a tiny crawl space that usually housed empty suitcases. She sat on the half-wall that opened up into the claustrophobic place, absently noting that with the cobwebs and thick coating of dust the crawl space brought to mind images of an oubliette.

Toby stared back at her, hands wrapped around his legs and head resting on his knees. Everything about him was dirt-smudged from making his way through that messy hole, and he looked something like a street urchin hiding in an underground chamber. His eyes glinted accusingly, as though his choice of surroundings was entirely her fault.

Sarah sighed; something was wrong with Toby, it didn't take a genius to figure that out, but the question was _what_ was wrong. Something had gotten under his skin and it scared him to such an extent that he had spent an entire night fighting it. "What's up, kiddo?" she finally asked once his silence became a bit too much to handle.

His head cocked to the side as if thinking or listening, and for a moment he perked up. "You should hide here too, you know," Toby enthused. "It's pretty dirty but, other than you, no one ever comes looking for something here, so it's safe."

Ignoring the uneven ground and thick dust, Sarah made her way to her brother. Crouching down beside him she asked, "What's this really about, Toby?" She searched his face, but his eyes had become shuttered, unreadable. "Why did you leave me that note?"

The small boy jerked forward violently. "You shouldn't go there with him!" he said fiercely. "I thought he was alright at first but he wants to keep you; he wants to take you away."

She didn't know how it was possible, and by all rights it shouldn't have been. Toby had been too young to remember the night she had wished him away. But, even if he didn't understand how, he knew Jareth wasn't normal; even though it defied logic, he knew she had been to the Underground. That thought scared her; it wasn't humanly possible for him to know these things. She had always known him to possess amazing intuition, but this bordered on the absurd. "What are you running from, Toby? What's wrong?" she asked again.

He shook like a leaf in gale force winds, hard enough that she reached out to stop him lest he hurt himself. His small hands knocked hers away, and he shuffled a few paces back from her. "They're bad Sarah, but out of all of them your _boyfriend_ is the worst." He rose up on dirty legs, gave her a look that was somewhere between pleading and complete loathing, and quickly made his way out of the basement.

Sarah sat in stunned silence. Toby, sweet-caring Toby who adored virtually everything she did, had looked at her with something that neared blind hatred. It was enough to make a girl want to cry. "They're bad," she repeated his finals words numbly. Her eyes narrowed, "_They're_ bad."

They who?

* * *

His door was still locked, but somehow Toby had found a way back into his room and Sarah took comfort in the small noises she could hear from the other side of the wooden portal. He wasn't speaking to her though, and if she strained her ears she could almost hear him muttering angrily and messing about with what sounded horribly like crunching glass. 

"You have to tell me what's wrong Toby!" Sarah shouted, rattling the doorknob vigorously. "I want to help you."

She jerked back when something impacted heavily with the oaken partition. Bitter laughter filled the ensuing silence. "But _I_ can't help _you_. You need to leave me alone."

"Who were you talking about?" she persisted. "Who are _they,_ and what's happening that's got you so strung up?"

Silence, heavy and oppressive, was her only answer. Something fell to the ground and shattered, but her brother didn't make a sound. For a moment Sarah considered getting a paperclip and picking the lock open, but realized that seeing her little brother wouldn't do any good if he still refused to talk. Frustrated, she marched into her own room.

* * *

_Something had Sarah in a damned-awful snit, Jareth decided while trying in vain to ignore her increasing temper. There was paperwork that needed finishing and arrangements that needed to be finalized, but the more worried and vexed she became the more Jareth simply wanted to go to her and smooth out whatever was wrong. She'd barely even been gone for more than a few hours and already he would kill to see her again!_

_A throat cleared in front of him and Jareth lifted his gaze to that of the human prince. "I have always appreciated your company Hadrian," his eyes fell back to his paper-covered desk, "but right now I barely even have a moment to waste breathing. So, unless this is a life or death situation, I suggest you leave me be."_

_The boy fidgeted, flicking blonde bangs out of his slightly averted eyes. "You know I would never bother you without reason," Jareth let out derisive snort, "but it's just that your Labyrinth is doing something damned odd." Hadrian lifted a finger and pointed out the open balcony doors. Twisted and bent towers had risen up from the ground, ripping through the night air and casting eerie green and orange lights out into the darkness. Forested areas had thickened to such a wild intensity that they looked impassible, and the walls had elevated themselves to treacherous heights, as though fearing climbers. "It's almost as if it were preparing for a war or something."_

_Jareth strode out into the velvet night, surveying the changes that were being wrought in his land. "It was born of a war," he whispered quietly, his mind racing back to those horrible months, centuries ago, that had started the whole thing, "it should always be ready for another."_

"_You fear the mortals will gain access to your kingdom?" Hadrian asked confusedly, coming to stand next to his king._

_No, Jareth thought, that was not something that particularly caused him any worry; there were very few who had the power to traverse the dimensions anymore. He had sought these changes for a different reason entirely. "Let us hope that what I fear shall never come to pass," he replied with a heavy sigh, the very possibility making him weary._

* * *

Sarah laid back on her floor, looking for cracks in the ceiling and desperately trying not to think about Toby. You couldn't help someone who wouldn't tell you what was wrong, she rationalized, so until he did it was best just not to think about the problem. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying," she grumbled to herself, rolling onto her stomach and glaring at her door as though it were the one withholding her brother. 

She kicked her legs about in vexation for a few moments, still regarding the door as a mortal enemy, when something slammed into her. A coolness clenched around her heart, filling her mind with a jumble of thoughts, and mixed so potently with her own frustration that she nearly curled into a tight ball at the intensity of it. Her pulse quickened, adrenaline suddenly pumping through her veins as the coolness echoed through her in waves. Jareth had said that they were connected emotionally but to feel so much of his… fear? Sarah paused, trying to put any other name to the feeling that was pouring into her; she couldn't come up with anything.

The mighty Goblin King feared.

But not for long apparently, already his emotions were changing flavors. Anger and irritation briefly flashed along her nerves before settling into determination. For a moment, Sarah wondered how Jareth had survived feeling her emotions mingled with his own for so long; less than a day and she was already whimpering on the floor from the dual sensations. The intensity began to bleed out though, settling off to the background as if he had switched his attention to something comparatively trivial.

Feeling drained and oddly bereft, Sarah quickly got ready for bed, eager to put such a bizarre day behind her.

* * *

_He dreamt of Sarah that night or, perhaps, she dreamt of him; it was hard to tell, being so thoroughly connected. The midnight fantasy had held such wonderful promise…_

_She was in a hall of mirrors, lost and growing desperate; looking just as panicked as she had in the Escher Room but searching for something as she had in the Crystal Ballroom. Jareth watched from his vantage point on a ledge above the disorienting maze as she turned left and right, going in circles and narrowly avoiding walking straight into the walls._

Sarah held her hands out in front of her, hoping to create a mild buffer zone before she bumped headfirst into another wall. The mirrors were slowly making her dizzy, wreaking havoc with her depth perception and filling every possible surface with her own image. For a while she wasn't even sure that she was turning down new corridors, that perhaps she was lost in a single room and merely going 'round it like a spinning top. Her eyes picked up movement all around her and her heart began to pound like a drum. Was someone else in there with her? But she couldn't be sure, for all she knew it had just been her reflection again.

Her senses were being brutalized in the worst possible way: heighten to a frantic pitch and yet utterly useless. The only one that she could trust at the moment was her hearing, but the sounds surrounding her were merely the echoes of her own muttered cursing and the swishing of her gown.

It really was a lovely dress, she mused for a brief moment; sheer sleeves and a tight bodice that gave way to voluminous, emerald green skirts that would have done any Victorian proud. Under any other circumstances Sarah would have been thrilled to wear such a dress, but at the moment it was proving to be something of a hindrance. The wonderful material was just a tiny bit too long, probably due to her lack of shoes, and so she kept on stepping on the excess. After tripping on the hem for the umpteenth time, she stamped a foot to the ground in growing frustration and hiked the skirts up as much as possible before continuing on her way.

_She was wonderful in a temper, Jareth decided. He could feel her passionate emotions burn through him and he savored their intensity. A smile curved his lips as he leaned over the edge of his small outcropping; her anger was getting the best of her. Had he felt like being a gentleman he could have gone down and helped the poor girl through, he almost had too, but then she had gone and raised her skirts. _

_It wasn't as though he had never seen her legs before, the tight jeans she favored left very little to the imagination, but there was just something irresistible about the image before him. Sarah's skin was flushed in irritation, perhaps even a little bit of fear, and one arm was stretched out before her as a guide. The other arm dipped just below her waist, trying to keep a steady hold on the fabric; the green silk fell about her in bunches, revealing only the tiniest hints of her smooth legs. Such a horribly teasing presentation, Jareth lamented; it hide more than it revealed and yet the brief glimpses had him more hopelessly interested than if she had been gloriously nude. _

_Well, he amended with a slight laugh, perhaps not _more_ interested but certainly more desperate to get that vision of her unclothed._

Sarah let out a hiss of frustration as turn after turn presented her with more mirrors. Her nerves were fraying, jumping at the slightest signs of movement even though she knew that, in all probability, the motions had been her own. Leaning against the narrow corridor she tried to rest for a moment, wondering briefly how she had come to be in such a place and how she was ever going to get out if she had no way of distinguishing one mirror from another.

A breathless shriek left her as a sudden sound snapped to life not far from where she was. The echo of a booted footstep bounced around the endless chamber, followed by another and another. Someone else had entered the maze and, judging but the surety of their gait, they knew their way around. Help would have been highly welcomed but Sarah had no idea who, or what, had just joined her. Images of a snarling beast, fangs and claws dripping with gore, entered her mind and forced her feet back into swift motion. The newcomer could have been helpful, but she didn't want to risk the possibility that they also could have been a violence-crazed maniac.

_He couldn't have helped himself if he had tried. Watching Sarah usually proved to be too much, the need to interact filling him with a deep restlessness. So he had entered the Mirrored Catacombs, desperate to find her. _

_Desperation was not an emotion that he was particularly familiar with; he had experienced so little of it in his long life. And why would he have? Time was his to command and the years of his existence stretched before him in an endless stream; there was simply no reason to ever feel the touch of urgency. _

_But not with Sarah._

_It was like a great beast was curled up in Jareth's chest, and every time he was around the girl it awoke. '_Now_,' it always seemed to scream, growing more persistent each time. Urgency flooded him as he had never imagined it could, a calling seated deep in his blood crying out with single-minded intensity. 'Take her, make her yours!' The beast had never sounded so good._

_But he had to find her first._

Sarah stumbled and cursed, straining her ears for even the slightest of noises. The quiet slap of footsteps was near but the chamber distorted the sound, bouncing from one mirror to the next, until she had absolutely no clue from which direction it had originated. The glassy walls narrowed and widened at irregular intervals reflecting her dark semblance and she attempted to streak passed. For a brief moment she thought she had caught a glimpse of blonde hair.

_So close, he growled. But she was moving fast, making it hard to catch up. Perhaps it was time to fight dirty, he thought with a wicked smile, using his magic to stride through the mirrors rather than around them._

She had reached a wide corridor, and was trying to decide if she had already been there when the footsteps finally found her. On a basic level she knew that she had to turn around, it was unwise to leave a potential threat at her back, but every second of panic that she had felt since entering this place began to duplicate in that one moment. Steeling her nerves, she slowly faced the other, gasped at what she saw and took a wary step backward.

Jareth. Standing tall, barely wearing anymore than pants and a pair of boots, the muscles in his torso were pulled taut and there was a wild look in his eyes. Something about him had changed, a crazed-abandon filling his every movement, his body clearly saying, '_the gloves are off now, sweetheart_.' She could picture him stalking prey through the quiet depths of a forest, making other predators weep at his stealth, his efficiency. With a jolt she realized that he was already doing that, and she was the prey. A flood of his distinctive cool-tinged emotions slammed into Sarah, causing muscles in her belly to tighten as she realized exactly why she was being hunted. His desire poured through her veins, shocking her with its intensity, and she stumbled to put a little more space between them.

He was on her in a heartbeat, one hand fisting in her hair, forcing her to look him in the eye, while the other had wrapped around her waist, plastering her to his front. Something bestial flickered in his blue gaze, a fierce creature sizing up its opponent. Jareth lowered his head, nuzzling into her neck; a hint of wickedly sharp teeth at her skin sent Sarah into a panic. Just what the hell did he think he was doing? Burgeoning though her feelings for him were, she wasn't exactly ready for this type of intimacy.

_Her resistance was palatable, drawing a growl from deep in his chest. The sound sent a shiver through her. He smirked; even when he was on the verge of losing absolute control, the soft curves pressing into his body driving him completely mad, she was still intrigued by him. _

"_Stop," she stuttered out, trying to press her hands against his chest._

_Jareth shook his head. No, he thought as he claimed her lips, he had done entirely too much of that already. Perhaps if she could convince him that she didn't want this either he would have let her go, but he could feel a reciprocating desire emanating from her. Maybe his life teetered toward the hedonistic, but if they both desired something then why fight it? How much time had they already wasted by playing games?_

_She was going to be _his_ Sarah, even if he had to bring down the entire damn cosmos to do it!_

Sarah tried desperately not to moan into his demanding kiss, but with every second that passed it got a little harder to remember why she was holding back. He bit at her lower lip softly, tongue delving fiercely into her mouth at her muffled gasp. The hands that had previously been trying to push him away slid up around his neck, trying to gain her a little leverage. His tongue flicked out playfully in a blatant imitation of a more intimate type of thrusting, and he slowly backed her up until she came flush against a wall.

Had she not been suddenly clouded in a lust induced frenzy, Sarah might have questioned her sanity at her next move; using the solid mirror behind her and Jareth's neck as a support, she quickly inched herself high enough to get her legs around his waist. He broke the kiss then, his eyes dilated and another growl rumbling through his chest. The prominent bulge that she had been trying so hard to ignore for so long was nestled between her silk-hidden thighs. Over his shoulder she caught a view (several views, really) of them reflected in the wide corridor. The visual stimulation was nearly too much, her captured moan finally bursting from kiss-swollen lips. From the vantage of the mirror she could see the muscles in Jareth's back flexing, the ripe swell of his cloth-covered ass just above which her feet had locked. From the vantage of the mirror it looked as though he had already thrust into her aching heat.

And what a picture they made, she thought deliriously while wiggling in the hopes of finding the tiniest bit of friction. Him, pale and animalistic, starry-silver flesh teasing mercilessly; her, flushed and nearing wanton, dark head thrown back in blissful invitation. They were such opposites that they couldn't help but fit together.

Jareth's hips rocked forward, grinding into her and making her renew her curses again the dress she was wearing. Such a simple barrier, she thought as his lips crashed over her own to swallow her frustrated groans. A few laces and a quick tug was all it would take for him to…

_And that was the problem with shared dreams, Jareth thought viciously as he stared at the empty spot were Sarah had been pinned to the wall only moments ago. _

_You never knew when one of the dreamers was going to wake up._

* * *

A/N: I don't even know what to say about this chapter other than offer my possible apologies… (Side note: The page breaks were left out on purpose to help solidify the fact that it was _one_ dream shared by two people. Hope that didn't confuse anyone.) 

Extra special thank you to darklady26, for leaving some of the most wonderfully insightful reviews I've ever received!

Please Review! I can't improve if I don't know what needs to be worked on and what can be left alone.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came from the movie Labyrinth.


	35. Summons From Oran

Chapter Thirty-Five: Summons From Oran.

Consciousness was usually something that was gained in degrees, slowly lifting up out of sleep and into the waking world. Sarah was beginning to resent the fact that her dreams were hurling her into abrupt wakefulness. One minute she had been wrapped around Jareth, ready to give in to the instincts that had ensured the survival of her species for countless centuries, and the next she was jerking out of a nest of blankets. The loss of that heady pressure, of that utterly delicious outlet for the burning urgency that she still felt, left her pained and wanting.

Fiercely.

For that one stolen moment in those mirrored tunnels, it didn't matter that she wasn't sure she could begin to trust Jareth or his very nature, it didn't matter that her little brother was slowly losing his mind and her life was quickly descending into the realm of chaos. The only thing that _had_ mattered was the inviting male body pressing her against the wall, the acceptance of an invitation Jareth had been offering since the moment they had met, _finally_ relenting to desire and knowing, beyond a doubt, that she was desired in return. For the first time in nineteen years the world had actually made sense. She was a woman, not a child or a hopeless dreamer, but a woman. One who had been rather enthusiastic about getting to _know_ Jareth, who, despite everything else, was essentially a man.

Her body itched with restless torment, and she could feel his cool agitation in ever-rising waves. It was nice, though perhaps somewhat petty and sadistic, to know that she was not suffering alone. She had never felt so alive as she did now, but it was an acute torture, knowing exactly what would make her feel even more alive, bring her some relief, and yet not be able to put that knowledge to good use because the other party involved was painfully absent. "Oh, it's not fair!" Sarah wailed into her pillow, tossing from side to side in a fit of temper.

"You're damn right, it's not fair," Jareth's voice growled from above her. "We were just getting to the interesting part, and you have the audacity to wake up." Sarah rolled on to her back to get a good look at him. Jareth was standing next to the bed, leaning over her and looking strained. He appeared as he had in the dream, shirtless and wonderful, his skin nearly glowing a brilliant silver, while his hair fanned out in a chaotic fall of spun gold. His eyes were wild and hungry, devouring every inch of her that was not covered by a sheet; his very being was practically humming with energy.

She tried swallowing, even though her mouth had gone painfully dry. It was hard to imagine that he could be more devastating in real life but, compared to the untamed creature that was looming above her, the man she had seen in her dreams had been a muted shadow of the king who stood before her. "Trust me, I didn't do it on purpose," she replied thickly, trying to peel her eyes off his chest. She hadn't seen many naked torsos in her life, but she got the feeling that none could compare to the one before her: well defined and muscled, yet still impossibly lithe.

A teasing light entered Jareth's eye. "Oh you didn't, did you?" he mocked with a tilt of his head. "I'm afraid I just don't believe you, Sarah; you'll have to prove it to me," he carried on, kneeling on the bed and slowly climbing over her. It was an arrogant and completely unneeded challenge since she knew he could feel her desire through their connection.

But a challenge that she would take up, nonetheless.

Sarah looped her arms around his neck, forcing him down on top of her. Just as he had ruthlessly claimed her lips in the dream, now she claimed his; the first brush was gentle but the second was demanding, wordlessly showing him how he had reduced her to a boiling pot of desire. She nibbled and tugged at his lower lip until he opened his mouth to her, allowing her to explore those wicked teeth that she had only felt hints of before. His arms pulled tight around her waist and he managed to insinuate a leg between her thighs. Deliriously, Sarah wondered how the sheet between them was managing not to go up in flames.

"_Ahem_," someone cleared their throat loudly.

Jareth pulled his mouth from her, head flopping limply against her shoulder with a groan. "It truly _isn't_ fair," he cursed in a strained whisper into her ear.

Sarah was doing quite a bit of cursing, herself. She had been more than ready to continue her unfinished business with the man above her but, once again, they had been caught; this time Jareth was completely out of disguise, looking more otherworldly than she had ever seen him, and she had absolutely no idea who they had been caught by. Jareth didn't seem to worry on that account, however; he merely settled on the bed, pulling her tight to his side and radiating interrupted desire as he faced their intruder.

It was a quiet looking man of approximately middle age. His chestnut locks were pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his neck and delicately spiraled ram's horns framed the sides of his head. He stood with a somber elegance, not a single harried wrinkle in his dark uniform, and was looking anywhere but directly at them. Sarah's worry at having been found so intimately wrapped with Jareth nearly vanished at the realization that this man was not from her world; it didn't quite erase the mortification, though.

"This had better be important, Amyl," Jareth growled darkly, flashing the poor man an angry glare.

Amyl straightened, though it hadn't appeared as though had been anything but, and stated, "You have been summoned, milord-" Jareth began to curse, "by Oran." The curses turned into a growl. "Both of you," Amyl added.

Jareth snarled. Actually bared his teeth like a wild animal, and snarled; Sarah wasn't sure if she found it cute or terrifying. His arm tightened around her waist, positively squishing her into his side. "He has _no right_," the enraged king began, but was interrupted.

"He has every right, as well you know," the other replied smoothly. "And I would suggest the two of you hurry up, it's best not to keep him waiting." Amyl bowed lowly and vanished before the cursing could begin anew.

Silence stretched out for several uncomfortable minutes, each second filled with the awareness that Sarah was about as close to his naked chest as she could possibly be without becoming a part of him, and the vague understanding that he was very upset about something. "Jareth," she finally asked, "what's going on?"

"It would seem," he sighed heavily, "that my father is scheming, which is generally something to be avoided at all costs." His hand caressed the length of her ribs before he left the bed and began to pace the small room.

"I take it this scheme _can't_ be avoided," she concluded, watching his growing irritation, the strides that resembled those of a caged tiger.

Jareth waved a hand dismissively. "Filial piety runs impossibly deep in my kind, Sarah. I cannot ignore a direct summon from my sire; we have no choice but to go." He paused in front of her, nimble fingers smoothing hair away from her face and tucking a few unruly locks behind her ears. "Be prepared for anything, Sarah. My kin are kind people by most measures, but they are not human; do not expect them to act as such."

His concern was touching, warming corners of her heart that she had thought his usually careless regard had permanently frozen. "Worried that I'm about to suffer from culture shock?" she teased, trying to lighten his mood a little.

Jareth's answering smile was full of sympathy. "You have no idea what you're about to be thrown into."

"I'm a big girl," Sarah replied, "I can take care of myself. I've survived _you_ so far, haven't I?"

He laughed. "You're about to meet the man who shaped my very existence, if not my whole family, and the only care you seem to have is in cheering me up," he chuckled wonderingly. "You might worry more about yourself, sweetheart; neither of us know what my father is planning but, chances are, I shall fare it better than you, for I already know how Oran's mind works."

Well when he put it _that_ way, she thought grumpily. She hadn't been the least bit worried until Jareth had made it clear that she should be. And now that the thought was in her head it refused to leave; what _was_ this faceless father planning? How devious could he be that he had someone like Jareth nervous? There was no way to know without facing it. "So what do we do?"

"We don't keep him waiting," he replied, "my father has a tendency to get vindictive when he is irritated." Jareth took her hands and pulled her out of bed, a thoughtful look in his eyes. Seconds later, a burst of glitter heralded new attire.

Sarah looked down at herself and twirled in a small circle. It was _the dress_. Sheer silver sleeves disappeared under a bodice of black ribbons and silver edging, and emerald green silk skirts whispered down to the floor in elegant waves. The only difference from her dream was that this time she wearing a pair of soft satin slippers. Again, she was struck by how beautiful of a dress it was, but wearing it would merely cloud her mind with thoughts of what had almost happened in that hall of mirrors. She raised her head, ready to protest.

Jareth raised a brow. "No," he said immediately, with a firm shake of his head, "I find I rather enjoy seeing this gown on you." His own clothes were as stylish as ever, a mix of leather and linen that had her mouth watering. Jareth in leather should have been illegal, she thought absently while her eyes followed the clean lines of his dark jacket. A knowing smirk was the only answer her careful inspection received before he took her hand in his own.

* * *

The hall they appeared in could not be described by any word other than great. It could have easily fitted Sarah's entire home within its cavernous depths. Tapestries and banners hung from the stone walls and wooden rafters, waiving gently in the lazy breezes. Innumerable rush lights dotted the room, less than half of them lit to facilitate the daylight. Ahead of them a massive hearth rose against the far wall, large enough to engulf the man who stood before it.

"Father," Jareth greeted warily once they had drawn near, staying disconcertingly close to her side as though her feared her being snatched away.

The man before the hearth raised his head at their approach, and Sarah took the next few steps to study him. If Jareth was moonlight dressed in midnight clothing, then Oran was midnight dressed in moonlight clothing. His skin was a velveteen-blue, nearly the black of the most silent hour of the night, and shockingly offset by a cascade of hair that looked like pure quicksilver. Pale eyebrows rose elegantly above eyes that shimmered with amusement and seemed to shift from one color to another. He was as tall as Jareth, perhaps even taller by an inch or so, and possessed the same slender figure and features as his son. His clothes were delicate, flowing like liquid, and shone with a pale radiance.

No, Sarah thought in stunned silence, she would never mistake Jareth's family for being human.

"Boy," Oran finally returned Jareth's greeting, but quickly turned his iridescent eyes to her. "You must be the lovely Sarah," he said, taking a hand and laying a soft kiss against her knuckles. "Welcome, dear child."

Jareth seemed to relax and stiffen all at once. "You summoned for us?" he pressed, and Sarah could only assume that he was trying to get this business over with as soon as possible. Something about his father set him on edge.

Oran smiled mischievously, a brief hint of flashing fangs, before he answered his son, "It pleases me that you should both stay here while you undertake this…training."

_It pleases me_? Well know Sarah certainly knew whom the Goblin King had inherited his arrogance from.

Jareth became so tense she was afraid he would shatter. "Father-"

"No need to worry," Oran cheerfully overrode his protest, "everything has been arranged." His eyes continued to dance with amusement. "Amyl will show you to your chambers."

* * *

_Jareth watched as _his_ butler, who was rather inexplicably at his father's residence, led a dazed Sarah out of the great hall. Turning around, he regarded his sire, who was entirely too pleased with himself._

"_Why are you doing this?" Jareth asked in frustration._

"_Because I know you, boy. You have a tendency to turn small problems into disasters, without guidance," Oran replied. "Courtships are delicate and you allow her too many illusions about how your life is truly run."_

_It wasn't for lack of trying, he thought; it was just that every time they spent more than a few minutes together they usually ended up in an argument. Sarah's illusions were probably the only things that kept her from running at the sight of him._

_Oran carried on, "But there can be no hiding here. She will see both the good and the bad. And she needs to, Jareth. That girl cannot agree to anything unless she understands who you are; she would resent you for it, should you trap her that way." _

"_She's already rejected me once, and our interactions are currently strained at best," Jareth groaned, "I fail to see how forcing us at each other's throats will help the situation."_

_His father glanced at him oddly, keeping a careful eye on his tight pacing. "You doubt your own charms," he said disbelievingly. "I taught you better than that, boy," Oran chided, "you must show her a side worth marrying, and she will drive any thoughts of other men from her mind herself. Teach the girl what it is to be loved and she will never wish to leave you." He sighed softly. "You can take this situation for a curse and be miserable for the duration of your stay, or you can take it for a blessing and use your time wisely. She will have no one to hide behind, Jareth; no one but you." And with that, Oran quietly left his son to whatever thoughts were taking shape._

* * *

_The fact that Sarah's chamber adjoined his own was both a relief and a terrible temptation. To have her so close at hand for however long his father chose to keep them there was going to be nothing short of torture. With a sigh he entered her room, hoping he wasn't about to walk in on her mid-tantrum. _

_Sarah was sitting in a velvet-covered chair and gazing about the lavish room in complete awe. "I absolutely love it," she began._

"_But?" Jareth asked, already knowing the answer._

"_I can't stay here," she replied. Quickly she added, "It's not that I don't want to, it's just that my family will notice I'm missing and… oh god, Toby!"_

_He snapped to attention at that. While he had never been truly interested in keeping the boy, he did still harbor a fondness for the blonde child. "What about Toby?" he asked carefully._

_She gazed at him for a few minutes, lower lip caught between her teeth, as if measuring how much she could tell him. "Something is wrong," she finally said. She told him then, just _how_ wrong; nightmares and mood swings, behaviors Toby had never exhibited before. "I can't leave him alone; he needs me," she pleaded softly._

_Jareth shook his head. "Oran may no longer be King, but his words still carry much weight; I cannot refuse my father, Sarah." She looked so pained by his words that he had to give her something to hope for. "But I will do my best to figure out what may be wrong," he said carefully. Sarah thanked him profusely as he left her room._

_And if he felt anything akin to regret, well… it was an emotion that the Goblin King had learned to ignore years ago._

* * *

A/N: I had the strongest urge to title this chapter, "In Which the Author Needlessly Tortures Jareth, Again."

Thanks for the reviews, everybody! You guys have no idea how much you inspire me.

Please Review! (I know I have no right to complain, but there's been a recent drop in response and it has me worried that I'm doing something disagreeable. I'm not a mind reader, guys; you need to tell me what's up!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Jareth, Sarah, or Toby. Oran and Amyl are mine, as well as the rest of Jareth's family, who you have not yet met.


	36. Apples for Immortality

Chapter Thirty-Six: Apples for Immortality.

After about the third maid coming in to ask if everything was to her liking, Sarah was ready to pitch a fit. Liking the room was very much a part of the problem.

There were dark woods and light woods, blending together over the furniture and floors; in most chambers it would have appeared chaotic, but they had been placed with such an eye to detail that the colors seemed to merge and flow, creating an endless, seamless stream of delicate wood. The blue silk-covered walls rose high, meeting with a tiered ceiling that featured strange free-floating lights. Her bed was simply the stuff of fairytales; an enormous, dark wooded creation, piled high with purple and blue velvets. The window on the far wall had produced a breathtaking view of fog enshrouded mountains and winding gardens. It was everything she had ever wanted in a room.

And she couldn't stay.

It was the running irony in her life that the moment she finally found herself a part of the fairytales she had so treasured, she was completely unable to enjoy them because it wouldn't be right to stay. And she had wanted to; to have been able to stay in the Labyrinth, explore what she had not seen, to be around the hypnotic creature who ruled that land, would have been the opportunity of a lifetime. Now she was faced with the same possibility. All around Sarah were the things that made up Jareth's world, she had even briefly met his father and, dear god, she _wanted_ to stay. But she couldn't, and for the very same reason as last time.

Because of Toby.

The next maid who walked through that door was going to get an earful, Sarah decided. If she had to shake the entire place down to do it then she would but, one way or another, she was going home. There was no room for double standards, if she had given pure fantasy up for her little brother once before then she would do it again. Toby needed her.

A quiet creak signaled the opening of her door, and Sarah steeled herself, ready to be the worst kind of nuisance possible.

* * *

_Jareth's childhood home had always been comparable to a human circus; busy bodies darted left and right, the chambermaids were almost at constant war with the footmen, the antics of his younger brothers were never-ending, and there was drama behind every new door. If it didn't drive you absolutely mad, the place had a way of growing on you, but he hadn't expected Sarah to glide into its' hectic pace so seamlessly. She was raising hell, and the housing staff was currently taking bets on how long it would be before someone raised hell right back at her. Jareth brought his fingers up to massage his temples, cringing at an indignant shout in the next room over. He loved his father dearly, but he was beginning to wonder if having spent so many years dealing with Castle Aryn had driven the man mad. Another muffled yell brought him to his feet, striding quickly toward the room next door. If something didn't change soon _he_ would go mad, and Oran would probably be happy for the company._

_He had only been home for an hour and already he wanted to leave._

_Sarah was pacing her room, her quick turns hindered by her full skirts, and was being carefully watched by a pair of maids and a footman. They looked markedly relieved when he opened the door, and he didn't miss the fact that a few coins quietly changed hands. _

"_I have to go home," Sarah growled as she whirled around to face him._

_Jareth let out a sigh. "At this point, I would love to take you there, but the problem is my father. Now stop harassing the staff, Sarah; save your words for Oran."_

"_I have to go home," she repeated stubbornly, and he could feel tiny charges of magic trying to bubble out of her._

"_I can appreciate the sentiment! I have an entire kingdom to run, whereas you only have a brother that needs looking after. My responsibilities have been piling up for nigh on a week now; do you know what happens when a king forsakes his kingdom?" He tried very hard not to roar, "Bloody hell woman, we're in the same boat, so don't face off with me; I'm not your villain."_

_She paused, looking thoughtful. When her narrowed eyes swept him from head to toe, Jareth was hit by the same sensation that he had experienced as a lad scheming with his brothers._

* * *

Sarah snorted. Not her villain? She found it hard to imagine Jareth ever not being the bad guy. 'Still,' she mused, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' It was obvious that he didn't want to be there any more than she did, which meant that they could team up against Oran. She cast a measuring glance at him. He had already said that he could not deny his father's wishes, but that didn't mean he couldn't express his displeasure at the situation. What would it take to get Oran to kick them out? What sort of trouble would she be able to achieve with the help of the Goblin King?

A wicked smile bloomed over Sarah's lips. "I have an idea, but it requires both of our cooperation," she said at length.

Jareth groaned, and yet his eyes told her he was curious. "Do tell," he encouraged in a bored voice.

"Neither of us want to be here, but we can't leave because of your father. So, let's give him a reason to want us gone," she explained. "Nothing dangerous, mind you; I just figure we can stir up enough trouble to get us kicked out."

He chuckled. "It will never work, sweetheart. You've yet to meet my brothers; the amount of chaos it would take to disturb Oran is daunting." He paused and let out a laugh. "Still, it isn't as though we have much of a choice."

For the first time since she had been taken Underground that day Sarah felt thrilled. "You'll help me then?" she pushed, wanting an exact answer out of him.

Jareth gave her a look that was downright evil. "It has been quite some time since I have been free to annoy my family." One of the maids in the corner coughed, and his expression became serious again. "Meet them first, though. Learn who they are," he murmured. "Study their weaknesses, then we will make a plan."

She stared at him. "Scheming shouldn't require homework."

The wicked grin came back. "I am your teacher, am I not?" he asked. "You're about to witness a whole new level of mischief Sarah, and it requires a great deal of knowledge to pull off. If you do not know your prey then you cannot plan accordingly. I'm going to teach you how to be a Puck, can you handle it?"

She bristled at his goading. "I can prank with the best of them," she lied.

"No," he called her bluff, "but you will."

* * *

_Perhaps Oran had been right; she had come to him out of necessity._

_Sarah wandered around the room making wild gestures, and Jareth had to fight down a pitying smile. How much time would pass before she came to realize that the master of Castle Aryn was not a man easy to annoy? Before she realized that he wasn't truly helping her in the slightest, or after? _

_Standard trickery aside, Jareth usually considered himself a man of honor. Sarah threw all that right out the window; it was just one trick after another with the girl. If Oran's web was what it took to finally trap her, then he was glad for it. _

* * *

"Breakfast," one of the maids informed with a curtsey, an hour later, "is being served in the informal dinning room, your Majesty."

Jareth rose from the sofa, where he had been patiently trying to show Sarah how to perform sleight-of-hand tricks, and offered his arm. "If there is such a thing as luck, the only new face you shall be seeing is my mother's."

"And if there isn't?" she asked, slipping her arm into his and marveling at how odd it felt to be civil around him. They had been polite and passionate before, but hardly ever civil.

He gave a long-suffering sigh, "Then the day has started early and my wonderful siblings are already causing trouble."

Sarah inspected his guarded expression. "You don't want me to meet your family, do you?" she asked as they drew close to their destination. There was shouting nearby.

Instead of answering, Jareth simply ushered her into the room.

The first thing that struck her was how wrong the picture she was greeted with was. Open and inviting, a large oaken table laden with delicious-looking food, sunlight streaming in from countless windows, the room could not possibly have welcomed hungry people more. Except there were two boys near the table, juggling plates. In a very literal way.

The first boy appeared to be a few years older than her. Whereas Oran had resembled the night, this boy was autumn. His skin was a light brown, poured over a wiry frame that looked gangly at first, but his fluid movements spoke of a grace to rival Jareth's. Dark auburn hair was pulled into a loose braid that trailed halfway down his back. He turned slightly and Sarah could see that his face was rounder, more boyish than Oran's or Jareth's angular features. Wide, burnt-orange eyes stared fixedly across the room to his partner, who was surely this one's brother.

The second boy seemed to be around her age, and simply personified spring. His movements exuded energy, as though he were about to jump right out of his dusky skin. In many ways he resembled the first boy, gangly in frame and boyish in face. His eyes were grass green though, and instead of sporting a long braid this one kept his hair short; chaotic, butter yellow locks fell in wild waives around his face.

And between them were about half a dozen, airborne, china plates.

Jareth let out a groan. "And the day starts early," he muttered quietly.

Sarah was about to ask if that meant these two really were his brothers, but a shout erupted in front of her and a stray plate went whizzing passed her ear to smash on the doorframe behind her. The spring-boy had caught sight of them and had managed to freeze all the flying disks in mid-air, except for the one that was now a lovely pile of china-rubble on the floor. Autumn-boy turned to face them as well, and if she had been able to run ('Curse these thick skirts! No wonder everyone thought Victorian women were frail; they were being held prisoner by their clothing!') she would have. It wasn't as if they were giving off malicious vibes or anything; it was just that their faces were expectant and frighteningly enthusiastic.

"Jareth!" Spring greeted in delight.

"Father said you were home, but we weren't particularly inclined to believe him," Autumn added with a joyous smile.

"Twins," Jareth returned the greeting reservedly, moving subtly in front of Sarah as one boy vaulted over the table separating them while the other merely walked through it.

"Then this must be the Sarah," Spring concluded excitedly, politely offering his hand out to her.

If Jareth had intended to warn her against it, he didn't speak up fast enough. The second her hand slid into the boy's, he pulled her into a fierce hug. "I'm Imm," he murmured into her ear, then spun her, lightning quick, away from Jareth and into the arms of Autumn.

Autumn picked her up by the waist and spun her in dizzying circle, like some bizarre parody of an Audrey Hepburn movie. "I'm Laim," he introduced himself kindly, once he had set her back on her feet.

"You _are_ the Sarah, right?" Imm pressed, green eyes begging. A beaming smile broke out over his lips once she nodded. "It's just, we've wanted to meet you for the longest time!"

"Anyone who can knock our Jareth down a few pegs deserves to be worshipped," Laim added, bowing lowly.

Jareth snorted from his position casually leaning in the doorframe. She wasn't sure if he was there to prevent her from running or to stop the brothers from stealing her off to somewhere.

"Oh, _honestly_ children," a sweet voice interrupted one of the boys' replies. "It's hasn't even been a day yet, and already you're making a mess of my home."

Sarah froze. _My home_, the voice had said, which meant that this was most likely Jareth's mother. Since the moment she had learned she was going to meet his family, this was the meeting that she had dreaded the most. Though the brothers had greeted her warmly (if somewhat oddly) and Oran had seemed rather pleased to have her there (forced her there, she amended her thoughts,) mothers were typically the ones upon which the approval of the rest of the family depended. It was a strange maternal power, as though the ability to conceive children made a mother the emotional center of any household.

The woman that strode calmly into the room, Oran silently if not amusedly at her arm, was not what Sarah had been expecting. Somehow she had always pictured Jareth's mother as a sugary-silver elf, but this woman belonged to the forest. Her skin was a pale glittering-sage, while her hair fell in long satiny waves of hunter-green, and tiny silver leaves sparkled from where they had been woven in to the gentle strands. Wide, expressive eyes the color of deep mountain lakes, gazed at her in interest. Unlike her sons she was not tall, barely even matching Sarah's own admittedly short height. Her frame was generously curved however, and coupled with the serene air that seemed to follow her it made Sarah want to cuddle the lady.

For several uncomfortable moments Sarah was intensely aware that she was the focus of everyone's attention. She had never felt so relieved as when the silence was finally broken. "I am Leshia, Jareth's mother," the woman finally said, offering her hand in an oddly informal greeting for the Lady of the house.

The breakfast that followed was pleasant, and Sarah was relieved to realize that she wasn't the only one who had no idea what to talk about. Listening to Imm and Laim fill the silence with excited chatter about odds and ends was probably the only thing that had settled her enough to the point where she actually felt she could trust herself to eat. Apple seemed to be the deliciously prevailing theme of the meal, and she savored it as much as her nerves would allow. She didn't miss the fact that, although he had sat back as his brothers had introduced themselves, Jareth had situated himself close to her at the table, a silent but welcome support.

When the meal ended, Leshia rose and came to her side. "Walk with me, child," she commanded gently, hand held out for Sarah's own.

* * *

_Jareth's patience near snapped as he watched the two women walk out of the room arm-in-arm, already murmuring to each other quietly._

_The thought of Oran around Sarah had never bothered him. His father was jovial and mostly benevolent. More importantly, he was already married. The old man never changed, and he only had Jareth's best interests at heart, which meant, as far as the girl was concerned, the only meddling Oran would do would be to set the circumstances. His father was relatively safe._

_His mother, though, was a completely different story. Judging by her calm lack of formality, she had taken a liking to Sarah, and now the two were alone together. God only knew what the woman was planning; unlike her husband, Leshia's interest had less to do with Jareth's happiness and more to do with grandchildren. Her greatest priority at this point was probably how best to get the girl impregnated with his seed. _

_And then there were his brothers. Imm and Laim were friendly and exuberant by nature, but he hadn't expected them to be quite so physical with Sarah. They barely knew the girl and already she had been tossed about like a cherished playmate. And to be perfectly honest, it had galled him. A handful of stolen kisses aside, Jareth had barely been able to achieve that level of casual contact himself, and the boys had only just met her! Granted, she had been rather tricked into their spinning hugs, but she could have looked a lot less fascinated by them…_

* * *

"And I haven't been able to eat peaches ever since," Sarah finished her story.

Leshia laughed delightedly. "Yes, that sounds like my arrogant Jareth."

They had meandered their way out of the castle and through a tranquil garden, where they now sat together on a marble bench. It amazed Sarah how open the older woman could be with a complete stranger, but the second that they had linked arms it was as though Leshia had decided to take her under her silky green wing. She had been prepared for an awkward and entirely unpleasant stroll but, like a true mother, Leshia had fretted about her accommodations, asking if there was anything that could be done to make her feel more welcome. From there the conversation had strayed down oddly girlish paths, clothes and makeup and boys, and for a moment Sarah had finally begun to understand (and feel the ache from) what her own mother had so long denied her. Karen aside, she had had very little female companionship over the years. The woman had even been concerned and sympathetic when she had heard about Toby's suddenly strange behavior, though Sarah noticed that she hadn't offered any sort of help in returning her home.

"Forgive a curious old mother," Leshia began, "but is there anything between you and my boy?"

Sarah shrugged and let out a sigh. "I don't even know anymore. After everything that happened with the Labyrinth I was perfectly ready to hate him for the rest of my life. But then he just pops right back in with all his bargains and deals and debts. I barely even know what's going on anymore. He said I owed him the thirteen hours back, and we were kind of muddling our way through that, but then suddenly he was my teacher instead of debt-collector. He's barely even taught me anything, and I have no idea how this," she waved her hand to indicate the castle, "fits into it all."

Leshia continued to stare at her expectantly after she had finished speaking and it occurred to her, somewhat belatedly, that the older woman had meant the question differently.

"I don't know," Sarah began again, her shrug a little tenser. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want him," –why was she telling this to the man's mother, a woman who she had only just met?- "but I don't know if there's actually anything there, emotionally. He confuses and frightens me a lot and I certainly find him fascinating, but I have yet to figure out if that's because he's Jareth or because he's not human." She didn't meet the other's gaze for a while, worried that she would see offense in the blue depths that so resembled the one they were talking about.

Leshia was smiling though. "All of my boys are quick to temper, but I don't think any of them burn quite as hot as Jareth. He is a passionate man, my dear, and often difficult to deal with. You must have patience with him." She patted Sarah's hand, "Spend a little less time asking yourself questions; explore a little and you might find your answers a lot faster."

* * *

_Oran remained at the breakfast table, silently taking stock of the situation. _

"_Was your own Lady so hard to pursue?" Jareth asked his father while wondering how best to turn Sarah's little plan of cooperation to his advantage._

_Oran laughed. "Your mother damn near killed me before we were wed; never have I met a woman who took so long to come to her senses." He continued peeling the apple in front of him as he spoke, "Your Sarah is a fine lady, if a bit shy and uncertain. The others seem to have taken quite a liking to her though; I've no doubt she'll fit right in once she relaxes a little."_

_Jareth leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. "She worries about her brother though, and Sarah is nothing if not persistent. She wishes to go home."_

_His father looked thoughtful for a moment. "Leave the problems to me, boy; save your energy for taming the girl. If the dear child feels doubt about our world, then we must endeavor to put her fears to rest. She may not see it yet, but she is already a part of this family, and I am too old to lose my first daughter now, Jareth."_

* * *

A/N: Bleh. Oh, and to clarify: No, Imm and Laim are not the same age; they are Irish twins, separated only by a year or so.

Ultra hugs to Gale Frost, for submitting Dramatic Orchestrations 500th review!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: Original characters aside, I own nothing.


	37. Causing Trouble

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Causing Trouble.

_Oran was not usually a man given to worry. Several millennia upon the Earth had taught him that most problems had a way of working themselves out, but what he had seen that afternoon made him wonder precisely what the hell was wrong with his eldest son. _

_The trip had started simply, a quick run Aboveground to look into the matter of Sarah's home. It hadn't been hard to find the much talked about Toby, but it was going to take a good deal of whiskey to burn away the image of what he had seen. _

_The house had faintly pulsed with magic, but aside from that it hadn't seemed abnormal. Until he had gone around back, that is. Snow had piled several inches deep and spanned the entire yard, forming an untouched blanket. Except for the blood; tiny spots and trails of dark red which he was morbidly thankful for, for had they not been there he would have entirely missed the fact that the snow was _not_ untouched. Silver lines had been laid out over the ground, fashioned from what looked like crushed glass. At first it had just seemed a nonsensical jumble, but as the clouds passed the glass caught the dim winter light, flashing out its true shape. _

_A maze. Blood at one end, boy at the other._

_Rising up over the twisted creation was one of the sweetest boys Oran had ever seen. Fluffy blonde hair and blue eyes had reminded him a bit too strongly of his own son, and the thinning rivulet of blood that trailed from the child's fingers had made his heart clench. The boy was surveying his work, tears falling from eyes that were half-crazed._

_Yes, a bit too much his own son; Oran had seen that look before._

_He hadn't wanted to journey to the Labyrinth, but his heart told him that there was an answer there. The walls had risen up claiming territory in the sky that it had never touched before, towers spiraled grotesquely out of the ground, and the plant life seemed curiously sentient. It had morphed from a child's dream gone awry to a complete nightmare. The Shade that he had never quite managed to approve of was nowhere to be found._

_Just as the Labyrinth had been changed, so had change been wrought in Toby._

_Either his son had absolutely no idea what was going on, or he was all too frighteningly at the heart of it._

_And, even as Oran poured his third drink, he knew that whiskey would not be strong enough to erase the horrible thought which had entered his mind._

* * *

It wasn't as though she hadn't expected it, Sarah reflected; she had been warned that Imm and Laim were the official Disturbers of the Peace at Castle Aryn. She had met them while they were juggling china plates, for goodness sake! Still, the fact that, less than twelve hours after having arrived, she was being chased by irate kitchen staff, the boys just ahead of her and laughing up a storm, had her somewhat flummoxed. "We just want to see what they're preparing for dinner, why don't you come with us?" Sarah snorted to herself; by the end of her visit she had no doubt that there would be a long list of phrases that should cause instant suspicion when uttered by either of the spirited boys. The angry shouting behind them began to fade as the winded and knife-wielding staff fell back, inevitably returning to their posts. 

With a snicker apiece, the twins ducked into a narrow stairwell, one grabbing her by the elbow so she wouldn't sprint right past their hiding spot. "That was wonderful!" Imm exclaimed, green eyes flashing merrily.

Laim nodded. "I don't think we've ever managed to blow the stove that high off the ground before," he said wonderingly, tugging on his long braid in thought.

"We would be ever so grateful if you could tell us what you did, for future reference," his brother carried on, sitting himself lazily on a low step and flicking stray yellow locks out of his face.

She had panicked, is what she had done. In the utter chaos that had erupted around the room she had seen a robust man with a wooden spoon heading her way; granted, he hadn't exactly been moving at the fast pace of someone who was _truly_ intent on catching their quarry, damn near a leisurely stroll through the flour-turned-fog actually. Her nerves had jumped to life all the same though, and at that point the enormous, fire-riddled stove had merrily lurched forward a few paces then shot itself sky-high. Sarah wasn't sure if that had happened because of the magic Jareth had yet to make good on his promise to teach her about, or because of what she had done with the sticky-roll batter. Either way, she wasn't about to tell the brothers; god forbid they manage to replicate it!

"Just like Jareth!" Laim interrupted her thoughts, waggling an accusing finger at her. "Keep all the good tricks for yourself."

"It was hard enough to keep up when he was still living at home," Imm lamented, "now we have to compete with Sarah, Destroyer of Stoves? You'll take away our livelihood, you will."

Laim lowered himself to the floor, patting the space next to him for Sarah, and turned a reminiscing eye to his slightly younger half. "Remember the winter he-"

Imm nodded enthusiastically. "With the goats-"

"And we couldn't get them out for weeks," Laim finished with a note of enchantment. The thread of the conversation had wriggled out of Sarah's grasp, and she made a mental note to ask someone about this, apparently infamous, Winter of the Goats. "Just how are we supposed to top that? Our only advantage was that Jareth always worked alone, but now that he has you," he threw an arm around her shoulders, "I fear that Imm and I shall be nothing but a fond memory of when things were easier for the staff."

"But that thing you did with the flour was pretty neat," Sarah hastened to assure them, not at all certain why she was encouraging the derelict brothers.

"That?" Imm scoffed. "That was just a wind current. We'd love to teach you," he added.

Sarah perked up. "Really?"

"Only, Jareth would wring our necks if we did," Laim finished, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"He never was the sharing type," his brother nodded in agreement. "But he'll just have to bite his tongue this time; we plan to make full use of our new sister."

Sarah nearly choked. "Sister?" she asked, her voice tinged with just the tiniest bit of panic. It was one thing to be friends with people like the twins, friends could occasionally sneak off for a few days and hardly be missed, but sisters were a different story. Sisters could be dragged around everyday without question; a sister could form the third leg to create their own little Trio of Terror. A sister would not be able to escape the whirlwind of energy that was Imm and Laim.

In many ways they reminded her of Tob… the thought escaped her, flashing out of her mind quicker than it had appeared.

"We've never had a sister before," Imm carried on, and there was something so good-naturedly eager about his expression that it made Sarah pause. For a moment she was reminded of Leshia, who had listened to her ramble on about clothing she had no reference for and joked with her about boys, even though she was a perfect stranger. Was Castle Aryn really so starved for female presence that they were willing to adopt any newcomer that one of the family was willing to vouch for? She really didn't want to read into the situation too far, but this family of royalty was being awfully warm to someone who was just Jareth's apprentice. Sort of made a girl wonder exactly what they were _really_ expecting of her.

* * *

_Later, around the time he woke up from a liquor-induced nap, Oran would come to realize that the whiskey had been something of a tactical error on his part. It was hard to think clearly when one's brain felt like it was trying to fly out of one's ears. What he probably should have done was drunkenly confront his son, not corner the poor Toby and scare the scattered wits out of him. _

_The little cellar he had found himself in was dank and dusty, and not really a part of the Aboveground anymore; granted, it wasn't really part of the Underground, either. Oran had to wonder how the little child, who stared at him in curiosity from the other side of a narrow space he refused to enter, could have made something that was in-between. It just wasn't possible; Toby was human, by Stars' mercy! Humans couldn't do things like that. Until they met Jareth anyway, he thought with little humor; his eldest son had the uncanny ability to turn anything into something it was not. These Williams children were no exception._

_With a wobble that forced him to list slightly leftward, Oran had managed to bring himself to sit on the half-wall that separated him from the child. Taking in the image of the boy was slightly less painful this time around. Hands that had been covered with cuts and blood were now as clean and whole as possible. Cheeks that had shown with tears were now dry and flush in interest. His eyes were still slightly unfocused though, but Oran figured he wasn't a fair judge since he had passed unfocused about a bottle and a half ago himself. "What ails you, boy? What madness drives you?" he had asked bluntly. _

_Toby stared at him in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing but no sound truly being uttered._

_Oran cursed himself for a fool. As if the boy would know what had crawled under his skin!_

"_Can you make it stop?" Toby had asked hopefully._

_Could he? Not if he didn't know what was really wrong. "What say you and I take a little trip, lad?"_

_And now, who knew how many hours later, Oran peeled himself off the desk he had fallen asleep on. He could only vaguely remember what had happened after going to the child, but the curious little face that hovered mere inches from his own told him that they had not parted ways._

* * *

Imm and Laim were simply unstoppable; they had spoken about Jareth in the hushed tones of those who were thoroughly awed, but Sarah had major doubts anyone could beat the boys. It almost made her wonder if she wouldn't fare better in her quest to get kicked out of… the thought vanished. 

Escaping down the twisting halls for a second time that day, Sarah _also_ began to wonder how long the staff of Castle Aryn could, or intended to, hold a grudge. The brothers ran ahead of her, in much better shape (and clothing, she thought sourly) for these mad dashes than her. As they rounded a sharp corner a hand shot out and pulled her into a suspiciously convenient alcove. A startled yelp tried to make its way past her lips when her momentum forced her to impact rather heavily with Jareth's chest, but her breath had already hitched from running, and the resulting embarrassing hiccup was thankfully muffled into his shirt.

"You've been playing with my brothers," he accused in a whisper, arms wrapping firmly around her waist to pull her deeper into the alcove.

"What makes you say that?" the innocent question was asked in the general direction of the shoulder her face was currently buried in; he was making it rather hard to disentangle herself.

The angry shouts of maids and footmen passing their shadowed sanctuary were bemusedly ignored. "There are goose feathers in your hair," his fingers expertly plucked one from around her temple and flashing it before her eyes, "and you're covered in flour. I can only hope that this is the result of one of the twins' madcap adventures." He peered down at her through the gloom, an odd smile quirking his lips.

"They're damn good at what they do," Sarah grumbled, bringing her arms to his chest and trying to push away. When he didn't even budge she growled, "Let go already."

"The boys are excellent at causing _trouble_," Jareth ignored her command, "but they lack a certain showmanship. They never bother to hide how something was done, or the fact that they did it, and their tricks reek of impermanence." His voice lowered and his fingers started to play odd little games around her waist, "If you want to cause _chaos_, sweetling, then you must choose your trick and your audience wisely," a single hand ran up the length of her spine and nestled at the base of her neck. "You must never be found at the epicenter or, better yet, be found as someone else entirely," he tugged playfully at an earring, and Sarah could swear she felt herself _changing_ somehow. "In the end they will know who did it, but the fact that they were never able to find a trail that led directly to you will confound them longer than the actual trick did," he finished smugly. Was it her imagination, or had his voice been getting lighter and higher toward the end of his little speech?

Jareth finally released her, and after stepping back she gasped at what she saw. The boy in front of her couldn't be more than thirteen, with the demeanor and bearings of a child but a body that was beginning to speak of manhood. Blonde hair was whipped back into a tight ponytail, away from a face that was still round and boyish but seriously hinted at the angles that Sarah knew where there in the adult body. He was lanky and lithe, in that stage of life where every transition is presided over by extreme awkwardness. Rough hewn and slightly baggy clothes hung off his wiry frame; all in all, he could have easily been mistaken for the son of a servant. The problem was that the thirteen-year-old Jareth was still several inches taller than her.

"What did you do?" she demanded, afraid to look down at herself.

Jareth circled her a few times. "I would say you look to be about ten, perhaps eleven," he answered from behind her, fingers gently sifting through her hair.

Ten was about right. Sarah's body had reverted to the short, stick-like little girl she had once been. The wonderful, though increasingly unpleasant, dress that she had been wearing only moments ago had been replaced by cotton and wool. It was a simple outfit, a plain shirt giving way to an even plainer skirt, and she got the feeling that she could pass for the child of a servant herself. Her hair fell in a riotous mass down her back in the long style that she had favored when she was younger, and it took her a few minutes to realize that Jareth was braiding it. "Why didn't you just magic that with the rest of it?" she asked over her shoulder.

"We have work to do," he replied, ignoring her question. "So, Sarah, Destroyer of Stoves, do you think that you and I will be able to compete with whatever the twins have done?"

She shrugged, her mind vaguely worried that she was going to be forever branded as the stove destroyer, "I don't know, why?"

Jareth finished with her hair and gave the long braid a quick tug. "I'd rather like to find out.

* * *

_Toby rattled off question after question, happy as any child could be. The difference simply being Underground had made in the boy was astounding. Oran still had absolutely no clue what he was going to do with the child, though. The whole point in taking Sarah Underground had been to remove her from everything that was familiar except Jareth. It was entirely apparent, however, that taking Toby back Aboveground was not an option. He could leave the boy in the care of the Goblin Castle but, to be perfectly honest, he didn't like the idea of him being anywhere near the Labyrinth just yet. Perhaps Hadrian wouldn't mind a small babysitting job, he mused. After all, the little Prince was used to looking after humans._

_Oran watched Toby trundle from one row of books to the next, jabbering excitedly in the fashion of all toddlers. For a moment he sincerely regretted having to leave the poor boy in the care of a complete stranger in the middle of a land he knew nothing about. As soon as the business between his son and the girl was resolved, he swore, the boy would be coming to stay at Castle Aryn. _

_In the meantime, Oran sighed, it was up to him to figure out what was wrong, and do something about Karen and Robert Williams, who were suddenly very much without children._

* * *

A/N: Sorry that there was no Jareth POV, Oran was feeling a bit talkative. This chapter really _did not_ want to be written, so I apologize if anything seems a bit strained. 

There are two new links in my profile. The first is a picture drawn by Sardave, a scene from chapter 11. The second is my own little drawing of the dress that so many people have asked about from chapter 34/35. Go check them out!

Special thanks to Serenity-Hermione Angel (for reviewing every single chapter in less than a week), Laurel Whitney (for a myriad of things, mostly talking and adding my stories to your C2), and BookWorm37 (for setting me straight on the Irish Twins thing).

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sarah, Jareth, Toby, Mr. and Mrs. Williams, the Labyrinth, or the Underground.


	38. Complications for Oran

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Complications for Oran.

Karen Williams had come from a rather well to do family; her mother had drilled the rights and wrongs of hosting into her at a very early age. The young Karen had studied dutifully and now, many years later, had it down to an art form; this fork went here, that spoon went there, medical procedures were not a polite topic of conversation, and above all the comfort of your guests must be seen to. If the orchestrations of formal gatherings had been offered as a college major, she would have had her doctorates.

But Karen was obviously slipping.

Oh, undoubtedly, the… man sitting in her parlor looked comfortable; he exuded an air quiet sovereignty, as though he could be at ease anywhere because he ruled it all. He conducted himself with poise and dignity, had been nothing but polite, and Karen still found herself floundering outside the rules of hosting. As she had asked him if he would care for anything to drink her mind had been desperately trying to hijack her lips. 'Excuse me, did you realize that you are blue?' But floundering though she might be, Karen absolutely _knew_ that would be an unforgivable breach in polite composure. "I am Oran, Jareth's father," he had said at the door; 'Jareth doesn't look like an evil smurf,' was all she had thought to reply before her hosting skills had sputtered back to life. Now they were sitting across from each other, an awkward silence stretching between them as Karen tried her damnedest not to make a fool of herself.

"It's, uh… lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" she twittered nervously, grasping at anything to fill the silence.

He looked briefly startled, and glanced out the window curiously. "Is it?"

Karen gave a shrill laugh, somewhat occupied in trying to figure out what color his eyes were. She wasn't sure if it was just the light, but the hue seemed to be constantly shifting.

Oran leaned back in his seat, sleek silver hair falling about his shoulders in a shiny curtain, and gave a suffering sigh, as though he had reached a disagreeable conclusion about something but was bound to see it to completion. "I shall get straight to the point, Mrs. Williams; you're children are gone."

And just like that, her world stopped making sense. Karen's mind summarily rejected the very thought; Sarah and Toby were upstairs, probably playing a board game together. They couldn't be _gone_, that sort of thing didn't happen without you noticing. 'That would account for how quiet it's been though,' a tiny voice reasoned. No, she rallied, her children were fine!

* * *

_Oran slumped in his seat as the woman went rushing up the stairs, not that he could blame her although, personally, he probably would have passed straight through denial and into the realm of violent rage. Like the proud felines of the jungle, he was rather protective of his children. He couldn't even imagine what the poor Karen was going through, although how the woman could be so unobservant was beyond him. It was hard keeping tabs on a family like his, but he managed; it was nearly inconceivable that a species of such limited mobility would not be running into each other all the time. They probably did, Oran conceded, but a wrench had been thrown into things. Jareth. His beloved son had always had the nasty ability to get past adult supervision. _

_A wail echoed throughout the house and Karen came thundering down the stairs, composure out the window as she began to tear the house apart in search of her children. Oran let out a sigh as the woman began to babble hysterically. As a parent, he could understand her reaction; as a man who had already been drunk that day, he was impatient to get this over with so he could go home and spend the rest of the afternoon pretending that his head didn't feel like it was on fire. _

_Karen collapsed in a fit of sobbing and Oran finally took pity on the woman. "They're fine, Mrs. Williams, I assure you. In the best care possible, under the circumstances," he murmured in what he hoped was a voice that leaned more toward soothing than hoarse. _

"_What have you done to them? Where are my children?" she demanded in a panicked tone._

"I_ have merely exercised what little damage control that I've been able to. Your children have had the misfortune of catching the interest of Jareth, and while I love my son dearly, at times even I must admit that he's a bloody stupid idiot," Oran rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. He paused for a moment to think, a frown curving his lips. "Like father like son, I suppose. The physical act of taking your children is my fault," he realized slowly, not quite liking the way that sounded. "But the reasons rest solely with Jareth."_

_Karen stared at him. "What is going on?" she pleaded._

"_Nothing ever happens simply in this family," Oran lamented to himself. "Such a simple plan: isolate the girl so that my idiot child could finally get everything on the right track but, as always, things cannot be that easy." His attention returned to Karen. "Madame, I apologize for what I am about to do but, unlike my son, I am loathe to break up a family in such a fashion, regardless of species."_

_She would thank him for it, later. After Robert had gotten over the shock of disappearing from his office enough to comfort his wife, and Karen managed to come to terms with where they were, she would thank him. Toby would have the comfort and support of his parents, while his parents would have the comfort of knowing that Toby was all right. They would ask about Sarah though, and he would be able to tell them that she was fine but, until something monumental happened between the two would-be lovebirds, he could not _show_ them that she was fine._

_Oran had been prepared to admit that life would be nothing short of a whirlwind after his binding with Leshia, it had just never occurred to him that the winds of chaos had no intentions of settling down, even centuries later. One son had turned into two, and then almost instantly into three; he had been through hell and back for his family and was prepared to do whatever it took to assure their happiness. Things had gotten out of hand this time though. He had only gone Aboveground to allay Jareth's concern for Sarah's wish to go home, perhaps give him some news to pass along that Toby was perfectly fine. But Toby hadn't been perfectly fine, and the last few hours had been the clean up mission from hell. Things needed to resolve themselves quickly, for he had a feeling that his trouble with the Williams family was just beginning. Jareth needed to lay the charms on and Sarah needed a gentle but firm push, preferably in the direction of his eldest son's eager embrace._

_With a relieved sigh, Oran finally made it back to his own home, wanting nothing more than to spend some time with his wife and try to remember why children had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Had he known what was to greet him the minute he stepped out of his study, Oran would have stayed with Hadrian and the bewildered Williams family for a whole lot longer._

* * *

"Wait up!" Sarah complained for what felt like the hundredth time.

Ahead of her, Jareth let out an impatient sigh, "Honestly Sarah, if I had known that you were going to be _this_ slow…" He turned back for her, all the same.

"Well, excuse me for being such a slug," she snapped. "I've never climbed over anyone's fence before, I have no practice with this sort of thing." And it was a lot harder than the neighborhood boys had made it look, she added to herself. With them it had always been find a nice handhold and vault yourself over; it was a nice, easy two-step procedure. Sarah was currently balancing at the top of a rather wicked looking fence, and experiencing technical difficulties in getting down the other side. "I think my skirt is stuck again," she growled, giving the offending garment a couple of useless tugs.

"Oh _honestly_," he rolled his eyes at her. "How ever did you manage to make it through my Labyrinth?"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "I'd like to see you scale fences in a dress!" The mental image accompanying that thought lightened her mood a bit; seeing someone as viciously male as Jareth trapped in female clothing would be worth paying for. "I was only ten once, you know, I didn't wear a lot of dresses back then and I certainly never did anything like this. You can't blame me if I find the situation somewhat hard to deal with. Why the hell are there fences in the sublevels of your father's castle anyway?"

The thirteen-year-old Jareth snickered at her, nimbly climbing back up so that he could help Sarah to the ground. "In a rather poor attempt to keep me within sight. As you can tell, it didn't particularly stop me, and the old man has been too lazy to take any of them down," he replied, taking her hand and leading her down a few more cavernous corridors.

Sarah struggled to keep up. At their normal heights, Jareth was quite a bit taller than her but always moved a leisurely pace; at thirteen, Jareth's legs were considerably lankier than her ten-year-old stubs, and he darted about with the unflagging enthusiasm of a child reaching the end of boyhood. "What is it we're looking for, again?" she huffed, trying not to trip as her skirt twisted about her legs.

Jareth, rounding a corned, stopped abruptly and Sarah slammed into his back with a quiet _oomph_. "That," he replied excitedly, pulling her in front of him and pointing dead ahead. It was interesting, Sarah though distractedly, how disguising himself as a child seemed to make him _act_ like a child as well.

In front of them was… a wall. It was a very nice wall, all things considered, had probably taken the masons who built it years to lay down all that stonework. There was a slight recess in the center of it, where a wicked looking stone-imp jutted out from the torso up, one hand held out in supplication while the other stayed at his side hiding devilish claws. Its' face was curved in an insane grin and blue light flared from the sapphire stones that made up its' eyes. A mop of unruly hair, whose intricate detail had probably driven the stone carver mad, almost hid a pair of delicately pointed ears and nearly covered the tiny horns that spiraled around said ears. And try though she might, Sarah couldn't help but notice that the contradictory statuette in front of her bore a striking resemblance to the man-turned-boy behind her.

"Father has a somewhat deviant sense of humor," Jareth replied to Sarah's silence. "No matter though, what we're after is what the statue hides."

* * *

_The gargoyle-esque creature that Jareth's father had commissioned still grated on his nerves a bit. At first, when he had been young, it had seemed funny, but as he grew he began to see more and more of himself in it. So much of his nature hid among those tiny details, the good and the bad all mixed together in one sculpture that held so much magnetism. He had begun to avoid it, which was what his father had wanted. It was easier to do whatever you wanted without examining the basis of who you were. Underneath his skin, and a few times physically as well, Jareth looked a great deal like that statue. It was eerie to see himself reflected in a way that no mirror could ever show._

_Sarah finally shifted, breaking whatever spell the stone-imp had had over her. "Where? It doesn't look like it has anywhere to hide something," she stated._

"_It is always hiding something," Jareth replied, well aware of the double meaning his words carried. "The claws of that one hand at his side conveniently block a view of his palm and what we want is nestled there." Sarah gave him a disbelieving look, but he knew well how Oran's mind worked. "I caused a great deal of trouble for my father with that once, so he decided to hide it somewhere he assumed I would never look."_

_Sarah moved closer to the statue, trying to peer through the densely positioned claws. "I think I can make it out. How do we get it? I'm pretty sure even my fingers couldn't delve into such a tight space."_

"_Nor would you want to," Jareth replied, stepping closer. "It is known as the Orb of Command, and must never be touch _unless_ making your command. I want you to hold your hand out like this," he demonstrated, his arm stretched out as if to stop something. "Good. Now, close your eyes and try to imagine that the Orb is tethered to your hand, where ever you go the orb will follow."_

_Sarah gave him a suspicious look, but did as told._

_Jareth allowed himself a small smile; a few days ago she wouldn't have listened to him if her life had depended on it. She didn't trust him entirely, but enough that she was willing to go along with him. Her eyes fluttered close and her fingers twitched slightly. "Don't even think about the statue," he encouraged, "it's simply not there. Focus on the Orb and a single, solid tether running from you to it. When you think you've got it, jerk your hand back." _

_Sarah furrowed her brow, fingers twitching but hand staying firmly in place. As he watched her concentrate, Jareth had to wonder if she even realized how much raw energy was crackling through the air around them. She would be something absolutely breathtaking to behold when she had all that power under control. Sarah flickered back and forth between a teenager and a child, her own magic trying to break through his spell; she had no sense of direction, magic was simply filling up every available space as though she had opened a floodgate rather than just dipped into a well, but when her hand jerked back the Orb followed, neatly whispering through the stone claws as though they had never been there. Jareth smiled; he had probably brought forth too much strength for the simplest of tasks when he had been learning as well._

* * *

When Sarah opened her eyes something about the corridor felt different, as if it were suddenly much more crowded than it had been, but the only ones present were herself and the Goblin King. And the Orb; it hung in the air just in front of her hand, a green sphere no larger than a clementine.

Jareth gave her braided hair a gentle tug. "Congratulations Sarah, you have just learned how to move objects about at will and pass them through other solid objects," he praised, producing a small pouch that he slipped the Orb into and tied at his side. Lowering her still raised hand and taking it in his own, he continued, "Come, we must decide how to use it." And if he let out something that sounded suspiciously like a cackle as he transported them elsewhere, Sarah chose to ignore it.

* * *

Karen Williams was usually a good person to be; her life was rich and full, everything she had ever dreamed of, outbursts from her stubborn stepdaughter aside. But Karen wasn't too sure if she wanted to be herself right now; something _strange_ had happened to her life and she was hoping it had more to do napping than reality. Surely this was a dream! A strange blue man, claiming to Jareth's father, tells her that her children were gone, reunites her with her son, then thrusts her and her unsuspecting husband into the strangest world she had ever been; Karen didn't want to even entertain the idea that she wasn't sleeping. Something about the place seemed familiar though…

It was a deranged Neverland, wherever it was Oran had left them.

A valley stretched before the family, the ground, and even a few trees, were sprinkled with huts and cabins, around which children of all ages were wandering about. Here and there Karen could make out the taller form of an adult, but they were few and far between. If the valley below held Lost Boys, then the young man in front of her was their Peter Pan. He was a tall boy, probably in his mid to late teens, with long blonde hair that was carefully pulled away from his doe-brown eyes, and he obviously ruled over this little slice of a dream gone too far. Hadrian, he had introduced himself as, while handing over a bouncing Toby with no small amount of relief.

"This is just a tiny village on the outskirts of my domain," he apologized, "we'll be heading for the city as soon as I settle business here."

Karen juggled Toby over to her other hip, completely unwilling to let her boy go despite his vigorous complaints, while Robert finally asked what had been plaguing all their minds. "Where's my daughter? What have you done with Sarah?" he demanded, barely restraining himself from shaking the boy to emphasize his question.

Hadrian looked startled, "Amazing," he murmured, "you're really her family." At their confused looks, he added, "Sarah's a legend here; you won't find anyone more widely talked about other than, perhaps, Jareth."

"Jareth?" Karen asked, latching on to something that she could understand. "He's here too?"

Hadrian gave them a pitying look. "Oran didn't tell you very much, did he?" Robert let out a snort, not having been told anything at all. "Jareth is King here."

"I thought you said this was your land," Toby piped up from Karen's stranglehold.

"No, no, I just govern; Jareth _rules_. This little plat of soil is one of dozens of different kingdoms in the Underground, all of which is Jareth's," the older boy replied.

Karen, though still trying to rationalize that she was dreaming, felt betrayed. Studying abroad, Jareth had said, he just hadn't bothered to mentioned from how incredibly far away. What exactly was Jareth, aside from a king apparently? She had trusted him with the closest thing she was ever likely to have of a daughter, had even encouraged them to let their intimacy grow! Did Sarah have any idea what she was dating? 'Sarah's a legend here,' Hadrian's words echoed back; the girl had been there before then, so what was it about her and Jareth that they didn't know? What had they missed, and how? Sarah shouldn't have been able to keep something this big a secret!

"As for your daughter, rumor is she's in Aryn and not likely to be out anytime soon," Hadrian answered cryptically. "We should probably stop in the Goblin Kingdom real quick, make sure everything's still in order," he added after a moment of awkward silence.

Karen followed her husband and the young man mutely. The Goblin Kingdom, she thought, why does that sound so familiar?

_But what no one knew… and we'll take the child… castle beyond the Goblin City… Give me the child... Labyrinth.  
_

Sarah had been engrossed in that little red leather-bound book for months, and Karen had been curious about what could have held the girl's attention for so long. She had read it on the sly, sneaking a chapter here and there while the teen was at school. Karen usually wasn't one for fantasy and fairytales, but something about the story had kept her reading, as though she had no choice but to eventually finish it. Had she been a dozen or so years younger, she probably would have been just as enthralled as Sarah. Something about that fascination had made her uneasy though, which was partly why she had begun to encourage the girl to spend more time with friends; the less time with that book, the better. Had it been some sort of an innate sense for trouble, or a coincidental paranoia?

Sarah had read that book, and she had been here before. Karen had read that book and, now, here she was, as well as Toby. Robert was, perhaps, the only innocent bystander in the entire affair. What was the connection? Had they fallen through one of Alice's looking-glasses, only in this case it was a possessed book?

* * *

Sarah sat astride the massive tree branch, idly swinging her child-legs, and glanced over to Jareth whose young form was casually slumped against the trunk. He was tossing the Orb from hand to hand, the pouch it was in preventing him from doing the smooth tricks he usually seemed to perform. They were supposed to be brainstorming what command to imbue the Orb with, but neither of them had come up with anything for the past twenty minutes and boredom was beginning to creep in. Perhaps Jareth was not the only one affected by being in a childish form, she reflected, her attention span had shortened considerably and she found her thoughts wandering. Time seemed to stretch out, as it always had when she had been young, turning a few minutes into a small eternity. A chilly breeze stirred what leaves were still clinging to the tree, and Sarah snickered as she suddenly remembered one of her favorite childhood poems. "Beneath this slab, John Brown is stowed. He watched the ads, and not the road."

Jareth looked from where he had been idly stripping some bark off the branch. "What?"

"It's a poem," Sarah replied sheepishly, wishing she hadn't said it out loud.

The look he gave her could not simply be called awed, a light of devious pleasure sparked in his eyes and praise spilled from his lips. "You are _genius_." Jareth slipped the Orb from its bag, rolled it around his hand a few times and demanded in a clear voice, "All those currently in Castle Aryn must speak in rhymes." The greenish hue of the little sphere gave way to a pale yellow, but otherwise gave no indication of having done anything magical.

"Did it work?" Sarah asked, frowning.

Jareth gave an elated nod. "We must hide it somewhere in the castle for it to be the most effective. I think I know just the place."

There was an upside to being a child, Sarah realized as they made their way back into the huge structure and navigated its endless halls, no one really seemed to notice you or particularly care that you were there. It was almost a given that a child would be somewhere, and that they would inevitably be wandering about. After a while they came to a statue, which she found somewhat ironic considering where they had gotten the Orb from, and Jareth slipped it among the many crystals the covered the sculpture's base.

* * *

_Oran had no sooner opened his study door than he was nearly trampled over by a maid. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't see the door; I was too busy rushing along the floor!" was all he got before she let out an angry squeak and ran off. Odd, to be sure, but odd rarely concern Oran anymore. The only thing he wanted to contemplate at the moment was the serenity that might be found by spending a quiet afternoon with his wife._

"_Fool!" he heard someone shout, which wasn't an unusual occurrence in the least. "I just had these shoes polished, and now all my work you've just demolished!" Oran could feel another headache coming on. One rhyming maid was interesting, a rhyming footman could merely be coincidence, but a third one soon joined in, "Then stop lurking where you cannot be seen! You could frighten others, including the Queen."_

_After passing a parade of distressed and metered staff, Oran conceded to the inevitable. Something had happened while he was gone, and he only lamented the fact that that something wasn't young enough to earn a tanned hide anymore. You always expected your offspring to grow out of such habits eventually, but he had been wrong about everything else today, Oran thought sourly, so why not this too?_

_When he finally found Leshia, she was sitting with a journal and muttering to herself in what sounded like a well-versed limerick. His dear wife had either not noticed, or frankly did not care. Noticing him, she perked up. "Jareth and Sarah need a kick; think you we have something to do the trick?"_

_Oran let out a groan. "I think we have a slightly more pressing issue to deal with, sweet nymph."_

_She ignored him. "All we need is a little luck, to get the girl to put out and fuc-"_

"_Leshia!" he interrupted, astounded that such foul language would dare to pass through the lips of his wife. _

"_Forgive your darling wife, husband dear. These rhymes are making me think positively queer," she said apologetically. _

_With a weary shake of his head, Oran pulled Leshia to her feet. "Help me find the children first, then you can set out to get the poor girl with child. I've dealt with enough today; I don't fancy the idea of sitting down for dinner while listening to a maid make a poem out of the evening menu."_

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay guys, travel can throw a wrench into even the best of plans. I just got back yesterday. Anyway, to make up for my extended absence, I present you with the longest chapter of Dramatic Orchestrations yet.

Thanks for all your reviews and encouragement, dear readers! I'm simply floored by all the great things everyone has said.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that came from the movie Labyrinth. I do not own Peter Pan, and the short poem that Sarah recited ('Lather As You Go') was written by Ogden Nash.


	39. The Danger of Little Princes

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Danger of Little Princes.

In retrospect it really shouldn't have been as funny as it was, maids shouting at each other in rhymed verses while footmen lamented their plights in well-appointed poetry. It was as though Castle Aryn had been turned into a Dr. Seuss book. Perhaps it was the after-effect of having been a child for the better part of the afternoon, Sarah mused, that had her so childishly amused at everyone's antics.

Jareth seemed pleased with their work. "The Twins could never hope for this type of chaos," he boasted, "they don't think big enough." It was odd to see a grown man preen at such frivolous work.

As if summoned by the very mention of them, Imm and Laim came racing around the corner, dashing through the hall as though they were being chased by the hounds of hell. "I'd be moving along if I were you," Imm panted as he passed.

"Father's in a temper, and probably thinking up a fitting punishment, too," Laim added, jogging right behind his younger half.

Sarah had been just about to turn and follow the boys, when Oran casually strode into the hall. Light bled out of the corridor until the only thing illuminating the place seemed to be the faint glow everyone but her was casting. Her feet froze in place and, by the way that the twins and Jareth were woodenly moving to stand next to her, she was guessing that the others had lost control of their functions as well. Oran continued his unhurried pace, Leshia gliding serenely behind him. He cast a look of weary paternal-bemusement over the four of them before turning his attention immediately to the twins.

Laim's dusty brown skin paled as he became shadowed by his father's blue aura. Sarah found it odd how nervous they all seemed about their patriarch; he wasn't acting particularly menacing, in her opinion. The child of autumn finally found his voice, "It wasn't Laim, my jokes are much more tame!"

"If it wasn't him, then it wasn't me," Imm cut in, "the Twins work in a pair, as in we." Oran turned his silent gaze to the youngest boy. For a brief moment the child of spring was engulfed by his father's midnight coloring. As the dark blue haze lifted, Oran nodded to the pair of boys, who backed up a few steps but did not leave.

Leshia rolled her eyes. "Forgive him, he's acting very poorly. I think he may be jumping to conclusions prematurely."

Oran turned his ever-changing eyes upon Jareth. "The castle is rhyming," he informed his eldest son in a bored tone of voice.

"So it would seem," the King replied using the same tone as his father, his silvery skin reflecting not even the slightest glimmer of blue.

"But you aren't rhyming," the elder began, before Sarah cut him off.

"Neither are you," she put in quickly. It was better to stand accused than guilty, not to mention it would help sway Oran into letting them go.

Go? Sarah thought distractedly. Go where? Something shivered at the back of her mind but was quickly forgotten when she noticed that, for the tiniest second, she had emitted her own pale glow, just like the others.

"I was not here," Oran defended, eyeing her curiously.

"Neither were we," she countered, which was, technically, the truth; they hadn't been in the castle when the command had been made. "_We_ didn't do anything," which was also true; only one of them had made the command.

Jareth let out a quiet chuckle at her answers, drawing an incriminating smile out of her.

"Don't defend him," Oran groaned, "he's bad enough without encouragement." He let out a sigh. "I had rather hoped that you would temper him out, instead you just get snared into his childish games."

"You have no proof that it was us," Jareth cut in.

"I don't need proof," his father stated patronizingly, "this is much too grandiose for the Twins. Your typical flare rats you out once again, boy." He turned to Sarah, "I'm glad that you spent time together, but it couldn't have been reading a book or having a magic lesson?"

"I won't behave until you send me…" Sarah trailed off, frowning. Send her where; wasn't she already where she wanted to be? Jareth and Oran both gazed at her curiously, waiting for her to finish a sentence that she could no longer remember how to end.

After a protracted silence, Oran cleared his throat. "Right, well I'd like you both to go to your rooms, and don't even think about leaving until you've learned how to play nice together without driving everyone else mad." Sarah had to stifle a laugh as the light slowly crept back into the hallway. Of all the mundane things, they were being _grounded_! And without even being asked how they had done it, or how it could be undone!

Once the two of them had settled into Sarah's sitting room, she couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "If only Toby was here," Sarah enthused, "he'd get a real kick out of this!" Something played at the edge of her memory. Toby… What was she forgetting?

Jareth let out an exasperated sigh, pushing off from the wall he had been leaning against. "I know you want to get back home, Sarah; I know you're worried for him, but would it be so impossible to enjoy a moment without fear for your brother?"

She stared at him blankly for a moment, not comprehending what he had said. Afraid for Toby; why? Her sweet little brother was untroubled by the world; he was perfectly fine. Except…

Sarah frowned. Something was shifting.

_He had come to her in the dead of night, crying, and unable to tell her what was wrong. There had been smashing coming from inside his room. He had been huddled in a dingy corner of the basement, spouting cryptic nonsense. Mood swings and actions that were completely out of character for him and, always, he could not tell her what was wrong._

Except, the last time she had seen Toby, he hadn't been perfectly fine.

"Sarah?" someone asked in a wary tone, but she hardly heard it.

Everything clicked back into place, all her worry and anxiety for her little brother returning. How long had she forgotten him for? When, precisely, had things gotten hazy? Sarah panicked. What else had she forgotten, and why?

* * *

_Jareth watched Sarah for a minute, becoming nervous, an emotion that he would seldom admit to feeling. She was fluctuating between frighteningly blank and as panicked as a rabbit in a dog kennel. There had been a moment, earlier in the hall, where she had seemed to forget what she was saying; now it seemed as though she was remembering everything that she hadn't been able to then. _

"_Sarah?" he tried again, reaching out to give her a gentle shake._

_She turned angry eyes upon him. "What did you do to me?" she demanded, jerking away from his touch._

_Jareth could feel a snarl building up in him. "So that's the way of it, then?" he glared at her. "The second something suspicious has happened to you, it is automatically _my_ fault?"_

"_Who else could it have been?" she asked haughtily._

"_Any number of people," he snapped back. "We're not in your world anymore, even the smallest of creatures here have some sort of magic. It could have been anyone, and yet you persist in blaming me." Despite his anger, Jareth ran a gentle hand across her cheek. "When are you going to stop shadowing everything by what happened in the Labyrinth?"_

* * *

Sarah shifted uncomfortably; Jareth's attraction to her was not always clear and usually manifested in infrequent and interrupted busts of passion, but he had tender moments like these that confused her. "If not you, then who?" she asked, ignoring his question about their past.

Jareth let out a sigh. "The Twins," he answered, "I should have warned you about the Twins."

She was momentarily taken aback. Granted, she had only known Imm and Laim for a few hours, but they hadn't seemed like the sort to mess with someone that way. It didn't make any sense, what had they hoped to gain by it? '_We plan to make full use of our new sister,'_ Imm's words came back to her. Had that been it; they had thought to keep their new 'sister' by making her forget that she had come from somewhere else? It was inconceivable that she had judged them so highly; those boys were going to get the tongue lashing of their lives the next time she saw them.

"There's no point in getting angry about it, Sarah," Jareth interrupted her thoughts, "they can't control it." He must have read the confusion on her face, for he continued. "Aside from magic, there is one gift that we possess; it is unique unto each of us. Oran has the gift of compassion; he can make others feel more sympathetic toward each other simply by being in the same room. Leshia has the power of serenity; she can calm anyone with her mere presence." He sat in a chair opposite from the sofa Sarah was resting upon, slumping into the seat before further explaining, "Not all of these talents are wanted, though. The Twins possess a very dangerous gift. They never worry about the future, and seldom concern themselves with the past, as a result they live completely in the now. So great is their wish for others to do the same that their power reflects this. The Twins possess the gift of forgetting; whatever is preventing someone from having fun with them will be temporarily blocked."

How awful, Sarah thought, to have that sort of power whether you wanted it or not. "Sounds dangerous," she replied, her anger deflated.

"Sometimes it is," he commented, "other times I think it rather works in their favor." A mysterious smile flitted across his face, his eyes going distant as he reminisced about something.

She narrowed her eyes as a sudden thought bothered her. "You said that this gift is unique for everyone. If that's true then how can both of the boys have that power? Is it because they're twins?"

Jareth shook his head, pale hair swaying gently. "Imm is just shy of a year younger than Laim. They are not truly twins, but they exhibit the same mysterious connection that most twins possess. The thought is generally held that they are simply so close their powers developed in the same way."

"You don't share that opinion?" Sarah asked, picking up on a scoff in the way he had spoken.

"No two children from the same womb should have an identical gift, no matter how closely they grow together," he stated with a vague air of longing, making Sarah wonder how many years separated him and his two siblings. "I believe one has an entirely different power and we've just never been able to tell."

Sarah gave a disbelieving look. "How would you not notice something like that?"

Jareth returned her look. "How could we? Certain gifts are extremely subtle, and Imm is never seen without Laim. One of them could have a talent so trivial as being able to drop the temperature of the room by a degree or two, no one would ever notice and, if you did, you'd never know which boy it came from."

"What about you?" she asked, changing topics.

Jareth looked briefly bewildered. "What _about_ me?"

It sometimes felt as though they had known each other for ages, but whenever Sarah tried to think of what she knew about Jareth she came up with a resounding blank. Oh, she knew how he acted, generally speaking, from having observed him, but she really didn't know much _about_ him. He seemed to crave her companionship, whether it was because he wanted to be her friend, lover, or he wanted to torture her, she wasn't sure. She was just tired of fighting someone who was that blindingly determined; if he wanted to know her, then she wanted to know him. It wasn't as though there was much else to do anyway, seeing as how Oran had confined them to their rooms.

"What's your talent?" she clarified.

Jareth threw a leg over one of the armrests, managing to look regal even in such an undignified pose. "The gift of change; the environment shifts and alters to suit my mood."

"Sort of like a chameleon in reverse?" she cocked her head to the side.

He nodded. "It is usually subtle, a slight change in the lighting or the color of the walls. Other times, as when the Escher Room flew apart, it is not so subtle.

"That was you?" she gasped. That room had confounded and frustrated her so badly that Sarah really hadn't thought anything of it when the walls and floors had broken apart like puzzle pieces.

Jareth snorted. "I wasn't lying when I said I was exhausted. When you jumped, it felt like all my plans were falling apart at the seams; a couple seconds later and so was the room." He rolled his eyes. "It certainly didn't help matters."

An uncomfortable silence reigned. This was the most amount of time they had ever spent together, nearly the whole day, and polite conversation was a difficult thing to come by between them. Sarah absently played with the folds of her dress, briefly missing the simple skirt that she had worn as the ten year old. From his chair, Jareth began to drum his fingers but didn't say anything. Not that she could blame him, even the most innocent of conversations had a way of turning into an argument for them, and they had run out of neutral topics through the course of the day. She had questions to ask and still wanted to know more about him, but didn't want to push too far, seeing as he was her only company.

A thought struck her, forcing a smile to her lips. There was no way this request could be considered asking too much. "So… tell me about this Winter of the Goats I keep hearing about."

Jareth laughed, not his habitual chuckle or snicker, but a real laugh. As he dove animatedly into the story, Sarah couldn't help but wonder what Toby was doing just then.

* * *

Toby was, at that moment, being closely watched by Hadrian, a fact that did not escape Karen.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was sponsored by Extreme Writers Block. Not a single word was happy about being used. (It's so pathetically short I might update again later this week.)

So, a really big 'I'm Sorry' probably isn't going to cut it. I've missed 4 or 5 updates in the past 2 months, and I really do apologize, but I've been busy. The good news is I spent a lot of that time pining down the details for the rest of this fic, and things are starting to settle down so I should be back to my normal schedule again.

New art link at the bottom of my profile!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I can't believe this story has hit over 600!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: Not mine.


	40. The End of an Island

Chapter Forty: The End of an Island.

Karen had been unwilling to trust Oran, considering what he had done, so she hadn't been all that ready to trust Hadrian, whom Oran had left in command. She was even more unwilling to trust the blonde teen when she caught sight of where he was taking them. Looming just ahead was a stone castle, nestled in the middle of a riotous little city. Turrets spiked and spiraled into the sky, creating an overall forbidding effect. She wasn't sure what sort of business Hadrian had to take care of in a place like that, but she knew one thing: her family was not setting foot in that dark den.

They weren't, however, given the choice. One moment they had been standing on a sandy hilltop, and the next they were standing in the middle of a cave-like entrance hall.

Shadows flitted from wall to wall, inviting the imagination to come up with a thousand little horrors to give them form. The ceiling lifted out of sight, and the subtle difference between shadow and actual darkness made Karen wonder if there weren't _things_ sitting up in rafters, watching the Williams family stare and cower. Dotting the walls here and there, creating convenient pockets for the shadows, where statues of gargoyle-like creatures that were so grotesquely life-like, Karen jumped a time or two when she thought one had looked as though it had moved.

"Just ahead," Hadrian murmured, pointing to a doorway that Karen had resolutely decided not to enter just seconds prior.

Silently, Robert slipped in front of his family; protestations did not pass his lips, but the usually mild-tempered man was, without a doubt, trying to protect them.

Hadrian rolled his eyes, and marched ahead of them.

The room was completely empty, save for one man. He stood, gazing out a window, not moving but still conveying a sense of quiet rage. At her side Toby let out a startled gasp, drawing the man's attention. As the figure turned, Karen couldn't help letting out her own gasp.

Of all the treachery that had come to mind, she had not expected this.

* * *

They had run the gamut of entertaining stories; Jareth had seemed to know most of Sarah's already, which she found somewhat disturbing, but not entirely surprising anymore. She had heard tales of a childhood both blessed and cursed by magic, laughed at and admired his boyish audacity, and been utterly amazed at the bond he seemed to share with his father. His stories had been filled with a richness, people and places that she never would have imagined on her own, and the more he had spoken the less she had wanted him to ever stop. It had never occurred to her how vast and varied the Underground could have been, never fully penetrated her that Jareth was a person who had existed long before she had ever been to his Labyrinth.

After the stories had tapered off, they had settled into card games, both unwilling to part company when they were still, amazingly, on amiable terms. Sarah had just begun to shuffle the deck when a quiet knock interrupted them.

Oran stepped through the door, looking harried and un-amused. "How did you do it?" he asked Sarah, completely ignoring his son.

She looked to Jareth from the corner of her eye, waiting to see his reaction. For a moment he simply eyed his father, then turned to her and carelessly waived his hand, clearly signaling that their prank had come to an early end. Sarah nodded imperceptibly and refocused on Oran, who looked faintly bemused by the pair's silent communication. "The Orb," she finally said, and began to recount their trek through the sublevels of Castle Aryn, silently thrilled when the older man looked surprised that she had been the one to magic the Orb out of the imp's stone fingers. "And then we hid it at the base of a statue although, frankly, I can't remember which one," she finished with a shrug.

"Thank you," Oran stood, looking somewhat mollified, "but try it again and I'll hang you both by your ears." He began to leave the room, but paused in the doorway, saying over his shoulder, "Oh, and boy?"

Jareth looked up.

"We need to talk," the angry statement filled the room ominously, making Sarah wonder what had passed between irritated father and suddenly wary son that she missed.

* * *

Later Sarah wouldn't know if what she felt that night had actually come from Jareth, or if she had imagined it all while falling asleep.

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, although some of the serving staff had been inclined to shoot annoyed glances at Sarah and Jareth through the first few courses. Imm and Laim had continued to speak in rhyme, much to Oran's chagrin, managing even to get Leshia in on the act, and together the three of them had said some of the most ludicrous things that by dessert even the stony faced elder had let out a few chuckles.

The atmosphere had been charged with a tension, though. She wasn't certain if the others had noticed it or not, but there had been something in the air between Oran and Jareth, an unease that had stifled the comfortable companionship that usually seemed to flow between the pair. At the end of the meal the two silently rose and walked off together, so Sarah had retreated to her own room for some well earned sleep.

That had been the idea, at least. The truth was, Sarah had always had trouble sleeping in a bed that was not her own; the fact that Jareth, who had seemed so companionable that day, was only one room away didn't really help matters. It was strange to think that just yesterday she had seen him as someone to be wary around, whereas today he was the only familiar staple she had. Even stranger still that only that morning, before the whole mess had begun, one of his legs had been between her thighs and she had been kissing him with a wild abandon. That thought made her shift restlessly, unsure of whether she should welcome his kisses but wanting them nonetheless.

As Sarah tossed on the gigantic, fairytale-come-true bed, something rose out of Jareth's end of their connection, something so unaccountably cold that it was nearly white-hot.

_You promised, boy, never again… in much too deep._

_Perfectly fine… just a way to keep track…_

_But the child…_

_No harm done._

_And you?_

A frozen fury crashed over her, disrupting the disjointed conversation. She shivered as the sensation briefly consumed her, but as it eased she felt something she was almost positive that delicate, and yet completely masculine, face would not reflect. Jareth was enraged by whatever Oran had wanted to discuss with him, but beneath that he was also worried.

Cold, curious, worried, and temporarily alone in a strange world that she knew little about, it took Sarah a long time to fall asleep that night.

* * *

_How dare he? How _dare_ he?! _

_Jareth had been King for centuries, not days, and yet his father persisted in questioning him like a child. Oran hadn't approved of that tactical stunt the first time he had done it, so he could hardly be expected to graciously accept it now. _

_Back then it had stung beyond compare, knowing that his Sire disapproved. He had worshipped his father, studied his reign with a careful eye, but when it had come time to rule himself none of the decisions to be made had had precedents. Jareth had done the best he could with the options that he had had available, made the choices that had appeared the most beneficial to his kingdom, and on the whole Oran had been proud. But one issue had divided father and son, placed them at either end of an intellectual chasm that neither one could cross. It had nearly driven him insane knowing that the Great Oran, the king that he had so wanted to emulate, would never see completely eye to eye with him. They had carried on though, their relationship quickly returning in full strength, if for no other reason than that a son needed his father._

_But now the issue had come back to haunt them, and they were still at opposite sides of that great trench. If he were completely honest with himself, he would freely admit that Oran's continued disapproval still hurt. It had been different this time, though. The elder hadn't shouted or raged, just given him the pinched look of a worried parent. It hadn't diffused the anger, but it had put Jareth on edge; had Oran seen some disagreeable end to all this that he had overlooked all those years ago? Was he really pulling himself too thin?_

_The circling and uncertain thoughts nagged at him, without focus or outlet to relieve their growing tension. Deprived of sleep, Jareth quietly made his way to Sarah's room, knowing that, even asleep, she could bring him some measure of peace._

* * *

"Jareth?" Karen asked incredulously. It shouldn't have surprised her, she thought bitterly; she had known he was involved, had played nearly the leading role in why her family was stuck in this strange place. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had taken comfort in the thought that, wherever Sarah was, she wasn't alone. Despite the fact that Karen was beginning to realize she didn't know the first thing about her step-daughter's boyfriend, she had liked that witty and affectionate man she had met in her parlor. Whatever the girl was going through, she had been soothed by the thought that at least that man would be by her side.

But here he was, looking less like a man and more like a wild beast, and with absolutely no Sarah in sight.

"No," Toby whispered, stepping forward slightly, "you're not him, are you?"

The figure grinned devilishly, flashing a set of teeth that was in no-way human. "Maybe yes and maybe no," he purred. "It all depends on who you ask."

"Enough," Hadrian interrupted nervously, "you asked to see the boy, so I brought him, but you'd better be quick. If Oran finds out I brought any of them here-"

"You needn't worry," Possibly-Jareth cut him off. "We've got all the time in the world," he added in dark amusement.

Karen slid a littler further behind Robert and clutched at her son, unsure of what was going on and uneasy from the strange things that were being said.

* * *

_Jareth watched as Sarah slept, huddled under the thick sheets and shivering restlessly. It pained him knowing that his own turmoil was part of the reason she was being tormented. She curled further in on herself, a tiny island in a sea of bedclothes. _

_An island… even awake, that's what she was. A self-contained young woman, who touched the lives of others but allowed so few under her shields. For a person her of age it was surprising, but not particularly trying. _

_Jareth had been an island for centuries. He had seen to the wants and needs of others for years beyond endurance, with the same courtesy rarely extended to him. He was tired of it. Tired of waking alone, ruling alone, and going to bed alone. It had to stop, and he knew of no better person to let slip under his shields than Sarah. They were made for each other, he thought with a quiet laugh; both stubborn, prideful, sore losers who, at the end of the day, were lonelier than they ought to be. _

_Jareth slipped beneath the bed sheets, intent on easing Sarah's quiet shivering. She settled against him as though she had always belonged there, and he did his best to banish any renewed worry about the future. With a contented sigh he finally gained entry to the land of dreams. _

* * *

"Toby," the blonde-haired, blue-eyed creature in front of them beckoned, and the boy seemed suddenly entranced. "You have a problem, I can fix it," he crooked a gloved finger and, whether Toby had wanted to or not, the young boy walked straight into the waiting arms of the wild thing before them.

* * *

A/N: It's been a month, and I haven't excuses enough to make up for that fact. It seemed like every time I though things were slowing down, something else crawled out of the woodwork, and I didn't have time enough to do something so important as write. I really am sorry, it never should have taken so long. No matter what, though, no matter how long it's been since the last update, PLEASE do not think that I have abandoned this story. This thing is my brainchild, and I will not leave until it is finished (and even that is negotiable).

Thank you to everyone who reviewed; you really have no idea what it means to me. I draw so much inspiration from you guys!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the movie Labyrinth, nor am I making any money off this novel-sized venture. This is purely an exercise in fun. However, Imm, Laim, Leshia, and Oran are mine, so please do not take without asking.


	41. The Labyrinth, Part One

Chapter Forty-One: The Labyrinth, Part One.

_Oran stared at his desk in contemplation, a myriad of small hourglasses spread out before him. He turned to the newest addition, red sand steadily pouring through the device. _

_Bringing Karen and Robert Underground had been a kindness, but relatively unnecessary; he had only done it so that they could be with their son through this strange time. Now it was becoming a problem. The Underground was so heavily saturated with magic that anything from the mortal realm usually acted like a sponge, slowly soaking up whatever power they could handle. It changed things, not always a big change, but then, it didn't need to be. Once any creature had grown accustomed to that never-ending supply of magic, it began to grow dependant on it. If the Williams elders stayed too long, there was the distinct possibility that they would never be able to go back. Toby was, hopefully, immune for the time being, and Sarah…_

_Oran turned his gaze to the green and black hourglass, frozen by his own magic so that sand would not pass._

_Sarah was already in too deep. Her own natural talent had seemed to accelerate the effects of the power that floated through his realm, and already changes were beginning to make themselves apparent. Luckily, they were small changes, things she probably would not notice. For now, anyway._

_His son was, undoubtedly, a greedy and selfish man, Oran mused, but would he be able to live with the consequences of what he had set into motion?_

_Another hourglass caught his eye, one he had been very careful to avoid for many centuries, one he had cursed himself daily for making. The bright silver sand was slowing, passing through the bulbs at a much more languid pace than it once had. In another day, maybe two, it would stop, despite the fact that the top bulb was still relatively full. Oran cringed and closed his eyes with a grim sigh. What was that foolish, treasured son of his _doing?

* * *

Mirrors. Once again she was lost in that twisting maze of endless reflection, only this time she wasn't being chased. There was no Jareth, as far as she could tell, just her and the glass. Something was wrong though; not all of the mirrors she passed seem to show _her_ reflection. 

A mirror to Sarah's left played the memory of her first meeting with the Goblin King in a continuous loop; the mirror beside it showed two small children in a park, the young boy giving his hair tie to the girl. On her right the events of the Crystal Ballroom panned out, as strange and confusing as ever, while next to it a young girl sat alone on a swing, telling stories to herself. Sarah shuffled down the corridor, taking a sharp turn. New images greeted her: Jareth informing her of her debt; a concerned Goblin King growing purple roses outside of a window that she recognized as her own; her, finding the arrogant king in her parlor, pretending to be her boyfriend; Merlin, her beloved dog, coming to her by Jareth's command; an intricate tattoo, topped with a deep blue J, weaving itself across her bicep, and a matching one hidden around Jareth's ankle; a red book, finding its way into her life, written by the very man it had led her to; Jareth, wild and hungry, pressing her into those very mirrors in a different dream, and oh-so-ready to prove that he was _real_.

He had been there, Sarah realized in shock, through every step of her life. Jareth had mentioned seeing her on the day that she had been born, but she hadn't realized that he had stuck by her for every moment after that. How different would her life be if he hadn't been keeping his silent vigil? She thought of the purple roses, of Merlin, of the witty and caring man that she was beginning to know, and realized that she didn't care. Certainly there were things she would have preferred he'd done differently, but it was water under the bridge now. Aside from his occasional habit of rearranging people's thoughts to suit his purposes, she really didn't fault him for anything he had done.

The corridor came to a dead-end ahead of her, a single, wide mirror smoothly blocking her path. As Sarah approached it, the events unfolding within caught her eye. Jareth was sitting in his throne room within the Labyrinth, looking angry but mostly confused, perhaps even scared. Another Jareth appeared behind him, looking drawn and ill, a crazed light glinting from his blue eyes. Oran stood before both of them, Leshia hovering to the side and looking weepy.

"…by proxy," Sarah heard the tail-end of whatever Oran was saying. "No one will know the difference."

"Is there nothing we can do?" Leshia asked on a sob.

"She must return," Oran said grimly, "she maybe the only one who can undo this."

Sarah broke away from the image, her heart hammering. Oran, Leshia, and one of the two Jareths had looked relatively the same as they had that very day, which meant that the event she had just witnessed had either happened in the recent past or were about to happen in the near future. She was not usually one to lend any sort of importance to dreams, but after the week she had been through she was beginning to think that perhaps dreams were the best places to get information.

What was wrong? _Why_ were there two Jareths, and why had one of them looked so ill? If this was to be the future, where had _she_ been? Somewhere with Imm and Laim? With her family? Dead?

A sick jolt ripped through her at those thoughts. She didn't want to be somewhere else while Jareth was suffering, she realized, she wanted to be there, to help him in whatever way she could. Though it had only been a week, Sarah could hardly begin to imagine her life without Jareth. Who would tease and annoy her when she got bored; who would confound and amaze her with nothing short of pure magic; who would frazzle her nerves with their kisses; who would understand her with barely a thought? One of those boys from the University? She snorted with disgust. She didn't want a boy, or a man either; she wanted a king with blonde hair and blue eyes, a creature who was as much of a blessing as he was a curse.

She wanted Jareth.

* * *

_Jareth cringed and he saw the final mirror play its cruel images. Memory worked both backward and forward and, as a creature who existed slightly outside the realm of time, he was often able to view memories that had not yet, technically, occurred. The problem was you didn't always know what was just a dream, and what had the potential to be a prophecy. _

_Sarah stood frozen in front of the mirror, looking distant. He wanted to comfort her, but he hadn't been able to physically manifest in this dream. Whatever was happening, it was something that Sarah was meant to work out alone. Jareth watched as her expression turned dark, just moments before she disappeared from the dream. _

_Alone now, he turned his attention back to the mirror, watching the strange conversation take place again. He ran a critical eye over the scene, and prayed to the Great Stars that this would never come to pass._

_Had _this_ been what Oran had always feared?_

* * *

"Now wait just one minute!" Karen snapped, taking refuge in anger; that, if nothing else, was at least familiar. "Who are you, if not Jareth, and what do you think you are doing with _my_ son?" 

The blonde creature turned his attention to her, skin shining a pale silver and blue eyes snapping with mirth. "I _am_ Jareth," he purred in amusement. It _looked_ like Jareth, Karen conceded, but something about it was simply too bestial to be that sweet young man she had met just a few days ago; it even purred like a cat, for crying out loud! And she had no doubt that his claws would be just as fierce. "And Toby… Why, I'm merely trying to help the poor lad," he carried on, mockingly.

"Where's Sarah?" she asked the question that had been plaguing her since they had come to this place, "I want to speak with her." She wanted to know what the hell was going on.

"I'm afraid she's with Jareth," he replied, waving a silvery hand carelessly.

Karen gaped.

"But you just said that _you_ were Jareth!" Robert snapped angrily.

Hadrian shifted next to Karen nervously, she wasn't sure if it was for support or to hold her back if she chose to lunge at the arrogant man holding her son.

"Yes…" he drawled, "it does get rather confusing," the creature nodded in mock-sympathy. "I suppose you could just call me Labyrinth."

Hadrian groaned.

* * *

_Oran rubbed his temples; it hadn't been since the very first days of Jareth's rule that he had felt this much stress, this much anxiety. _

_Dawn had broken, and Hadrian still hadn't reported back to him. While only technically answerable to Jareth, the lad had never ignored a request from Oran. Something must have gone wrong, he thought sourly, and he had a feeling he knew exactly _where_ it had gone wrong._

_With a sighing groan, Oran slipped from bed, careful not to disturb his sweet wife. He had a family to find… before it was too late._

* * *

Sarah snapped awake, momentarily confused by her abrupt departure from the mirrored-maze. Her senses quickly came to life, informing her that she was still in bed… and not alone. An arm was looping her waist, drawing her against a relatively familiar chest. A strand of hair, her own or his she wasn't sure, tickled the side of her face, and tried burrowing deeper into Jareth to escape it. His arm tightened about her waist and his breathing changed just slightly. 'I must have woken him up,' she thought. 

Blue eyes peered down at her curiously when she finally gathered enough courage to look up. Jareth still appeared to be half asleep, his eyes hooded and cloudy. For one terrible minute, the image of his pale and drawn face, mad and yet somehow lifeless, superimposed itself over what was really there, and all too clearly Sarah remembered the dream and how it had made her feel.

He began to say something but Sarah cut him off, diving for his lips. Her kiss was harsh and angry. _Why hadn't she been there?_ She demanded of him, silently. After a thoughtful pause she nipped at his lower lip. Jareth came to life with a startling intensity, tugging on her own lip and finally delving his tongue into her mouth.

Why hadn't she realized how important he was sooner? She thought, her mind drifting in a haze.

Jareth broke the kiss, so Sarah, still hungry for contact, moved her lips to his neck. "Good morning to you, too," he said with a chuckle.

Sarah raised a first and pounded it against his chest. "Don't you _ever_ leave me," she hissed between nibbles.

"I believe that's my line," he replied dryly, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. She glared at him and raised her fist to pound him again, but he quickly caught it and laid the fingers gently over his heart. "You're violent when you've had a realization," he laughed.

"Less talking, more kissing," she growled. Something fierce and urgent had clawed its way inside her. The thought that they might, one day soon, be separated was unbearable. Did she love him? Perhaps not, but at the moment she found that she couldn't live without him. Given time, that could become the deepest love of all.

Jareth grinned. "Oh _yes_," he hissed, tugging her closer.

* * *

A/N: Just like I evaded making an actual promise about, here's chapter 41 in only one week's time. This didn't go exactly where I wanted it to, but we're getting there. 

A very special thank you to darklady26, for being awesome, and to Fireshifter, for being my 660th reviewer!

Please Review!! I need feedback just as much as any author.

Disclaimer: Not mine.


	42. The Labyrinth, Part Two

Chapter Forty-Two: The Labyrinth, Part Two.

Life is like a forest, little players ambling down their chosen routes. One never knew what might jump out of the underbrush, or if a tree had come down further up the way, blocking the path. Things didn't turn out as planned, and a wrong turn could lead one down a road they had never meant to travel.

Perhaps it's true that the Underground was never meant to have existed, that the Labyrinth was to have stayed a small and primitive game. Perhaps Jareth was to have gone down in history as the King who had succumbed to human influence, maybe he was never to have met Sarah at all. Had Jareth chosen a path other than war, all those years ago, things could have been radically different.

But he hadn't, and they weren't.

Slowly, unknown to him, the silken spider-web of choices and actions Jareth had committed to in his long life was drawing closed. Strand after strand vibrated, resonating with deeds that were about to catch up to the oblivious monarch, threatening to tear the structure apart.

* * *

_Oran considered himself a reasonable man, but the scene in front of him, couple with frazzled nerves from his argument the night before, was enough to make him snap. _

_The castle beyond the Goblin City had turned itself into a nightmare, something out of the worst brand of horror story. Within its walls, however, a very _different_ scene was unfolding. Toby sat on the floor, between armies, idly tracing patterns on the floor. To one side of the boy was Karen, looking like she wanted to claw the Shade's eyes out, and the only thing holding her back was her husband. The Shade stood across from them, looking eternally smug, while Hadrian stood to one side, not sure of which party to help._

"…_Inconsiderate, pushy, slack-jawed-" Karen cried, trying to break free from Robert's grasp._

"_For the love of the Stars, woman! I'm just trying to help the boy!" the Shade said in confused exasperation._

_She snarled. "Like hell you are! I know your sort; relying on the gullibility of others!"_

"_My sort?" he looked affronted. "I'll have you know Madame, that on occasion I have been known to be exceedingly generous."_

_Hadrian sulked over to Oran's side, looking like a whipped puppy. "Labyrinth said he knew what was wrong with the boy, said if I brought the child over he could fix it. He was going to do _something_ anyway, but then the woman started snapping like an angry bear. They've been at this for a while now."_

_Oran didn't doubt it, the argument looked like it had some momentum behind it. "This has to stop," he murmured, watching verbal blows volley from one end of the room to the other. "Jareth has to put an end to this. The Labyrinth was one thing, but the boy does not deserve to bare witness to events like these just because my son is recklessly selfish." With a wave of his hand, the occupants of the hall disappeared._

* * *

A strand tightened, drawing several others closer.

* * *

If you had asked Sarah yesterday what she thought she'd be doing come the next morning, the phrase 'groping Jareth' probably wouldn't have come to her mind at all, except for perhaps in the deep and primitive part of her that never truly cared about anything other than the fact that he was man-shaped and she was woman-shaped. The point is it wasn't generally in Sarah's temperament to initiate such intimate contact with someone who she might never fully form a healthy opinion about. But the fact that she might die before ever knowing where Jareth stood in her life didn't matter right now. 

Right now was a moment for living, for exploring all those promises that he had made back when she had been too young to understand. Right now was for erasing the memory of what she had seen inside that dream mirror, or rather what she hadn't seen. _Why hadn't she been there?!_ Even caught in a lip-lock, while Jareth's fingers played interesting and teasing games around her hips, the question burned in her mind. Sarah hooked a leg behind one of his knees, pulling as close to him as possible, as if afraid that he might disappear at any moment.

Jareth pulled back for a minute, drawing a groan out of Sarah. "You're not teasing me, are you?" he asked suspiciously. She stared at him blankly, trying to get his face back within reach by tugging on his hair. "You're not drunk, or half asleep?"

"No," she answered, still looking to his lips in single-minded determination.

A finger slipped under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Then what's brought this on?" he asked quietly.

Sarah gazed at him in bewilderment. "What does it matter?" He was a guy, shouldn't he be jumping at all the chances he got? He had seemed more than willing on several occasions, so what was wrong with now?

His jaw clenched. "It matters," he said at length, "because I never want to hear excuses for what may happen. I grew tired of meaningless flings long ago, so if you want to try anything you had better be making a commitment."

"And if I'm not?" she asked thickly.

He gave her a searing look. "I shall endeavor to change your mind, as I have been for the past week. I want you, Sarah, and I am not a man easily persuaded to give up. So what now, my girl?" he asked, giving her collarbone a quick nip. "Are you ready for something more meaningful, or would you like to try another week of pretending that you aren't attracted to me while I do my best to convince you that you are?" He shifted forward and rolled, pinning her beneath him, hip to hip with his hands on her shoulders. "And you are, darling," the thrust against her gently, grinning at her quiet moan, "you've always been attracted to me. Admit it."

It would be a boldfaced lie to disagree. Even at fifteen there had been something frighteningly compelling about Jareth. Sarah eyed him as he hovered over her, his eyes promising to show her things she knew she would never find anywhere else. He gave another quick roll of his hips, enough to feed her hunger without giving any satisfaction, wordlessly demanding that she submit. 'What a strange man,' she mused, trying her best not to moan. He had said, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't interested in pleasure simply for the sake of pleasure, and yet his body language said that this was happening _now_ and he would accept nothing less than her complete surrender.

Sarah tried to thrust back at him, she was aching and empty, searching for some friction, but he kept her cruelly pinned, allowing himself a nip here and a small movement there. She knew he wouldn't take it much farther, or allow her any freedom, until she gave him an answer.

"Admit it," Jareth purred, leaning in to nibble on one of her ears.

Sarah would have gladly done so, but was too interested in what he was currently doing. He had shifted, bringing one firmly muscled leg between her thighs, and his hands, his beautiful talented hands, had begun roving. They ghosted down from her shoulders, traced sweet patterns at her exposed collarbone, and began to move lower.

The leg between her thighs inched forward slightly, ripping a groan of frustration out of her. He was no longer pinning her hips, so Sarah was free to move as much as possible, but Jareth still hadn't insinuated himself close enough where the thrusting would be worth the token amount of friction it would generate. Too low, she despaired; her thighs were sensitive, but not enough to get any satisfaction out of his positioning. She wasn't interested in riding his thigh anyway; she wanted that steely manhood he had been showcasing since the moment they had met.

"Well?" Jareth rumbled huskily, movements becoming bolder with time.

While otherwise distracted with more southerly events, Sarah hadn't noticed his hands slipping down to her chest, but the moment he began to caress one of her cloth-covered breasts she snapped to attention. His movements were slow, leisurely: a squeeze here, an idle circle there. As his thumb gently ghosted over an excruciatingly taut nipple, Sarah wanted to scream at him.

She had never experienced sexual frenzy before. Certainly, there had been a few times in the past few days where she had wanted nothing more than his lips on her, but this went far beyond that. This was a hunger, a want, so deep it was painful; there was an empty sort of aching, not just in her body but somewhere in her mind as well, just begging to be filled. Something wild and carnal had opened its glassy eyes within her, demanding attention. It wasn't strictly a physical agitation though. Deep in her heart she knew a good deal of her was being driven by the realization that, one way or another, she wanted him in her life. The end result was that she couldn't get enough of Jareth; although, she thought sourly, that could be because he wasn't giving enough of himself.

His self-control galled her. Here she was, laid before him like some pagan sacrifice in a nightgown, moaning and groaning like an actress out of the trashiest sort of film, and he barely even seemed effected. His movements were lazy, like a man who was full on steak but wanted that slice of cheesecake, regardless of the fact that he was already full. She narrowed her eyes, not liking it one bit. If she was going to pant like a bitch in heat then, by god, she wasn't going to do it alone!

Sarah's hands finally came to life, ready to give Jareth a taste of his own medicine. Subtly, one hand began to tease a path down his side, while the other found its way into his shirt in order to graze her nails lightly against the skin of his back.

Jareth stiffened, jaw clenching, but he continued his torturous games, forcing a shiver out of her.

Undeterred, Sarah wove a few fingers just beneath the line of his pants, gently kneading the flesh there with her knuckles. Her other hand left its perch on his back and moved down to flick over one of his slightly exposed nipples.

With a roar that was nearly inhuman, Jareth grabbed both her hands, pinning them by her head. "_Admit it_," he growled dangerously, eyes darkening while his skin seemed to positively radiate a silver light.

Sarah smiled wickedly, ready to move on from heavy petting, but a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Jareth practically snarled in warning as she turned her head from him, his grip tightening on her wrists, but she was already paling in horror at what she saw.

* * *

One strand loosened while another pulled dangerously taut, a horrible snare forming out of the tangled strands of the web.

* * *

To say that desire fled her would be a lie; she was painfully aroused, and had a feeling that she would remain so for a very long time, but at the sight of Oran, some boy she did not recognize, her family, and _another_ Jareth, her fervor was slightly dampened. 

Oran coughed uncomfortably. "Boy," he said, an apologetic note in his voice, "we have problems."

Sarah watched as Jareth slowly turned to face his father, eyes momentarily blank as though he did not recognize the man. An involuntary shiver coursed through her; it was much the same look as she had seen on one of the Jareths in the mirror. After a minute he rose off her, but pulled her tightly to his side once he had seated himself, an iron-strength arm looping her waist.

Karen was looking between the two Jareths, as though trying to reach a decision. To Sarah, both were making her uneasy. The one across the room had the aura of a caged animal, but the one beside her seemed more bestial and a lot less caged.

"Father," the man beside her finally acknowledged roughly.

Oran gave him a resigned look, something pitying and sad. "It has to stop, boy. You must end it, Jareth, or Toby may never be able to safely return Above." He jerked a thumb to the strange copy, "This one tried to undo it, but I don't know that he can without causing any damage."

Sarah stared, not liking what she was hearing. It didn't make a lot of sense, but then she hadn't really known what was wrong with Toby in the first place. Apparently Jareth did, was potentially the cause, or at least the cure. He was tense, more tense than interrupted passion would warrant. Something here was very, very wrong. "What's going on?" she asked breathlessly.

Jareth ignored her. "And this couldn't have waited until later, sire?" he asked coldly.

Oran turned stern, iridescent eyes narrowing. "You did this to the boy on a whim, now you undo you it or I relieve the duty of the crown from you on grounds of insufficiency."

Jareth growled so lowly that Sarah felt it more than she heard it. The room had become frigid, the cheery fire sputtering its last as frost began to collect merrily on the windowpane. Not only was he really beginning to frighten her, but now, thanks to Oran's words, she _knew_ he was hiding something. "What's going on?" she asked again, trying to pull away from him.

He neither budged nor spoke.

Casting his son a cruel look, Oran said, "Allow me to explain then. Many years ago our people lived in harmony but Jareth, perhaps rightfully so or perhaps not, chose to war with the mortals. His ultimate defense became the Labyrinth." Oran pointed to the second Jareth, "But he put too much of himself into it, and ultimately _became_ the Labyrinth, splitting himself into two parts: that which would rule and shape the maze, and that which would stay within his own body. It was a risky and dangerous move, and he has never quite been the same since."

The arm around her waist seemed to hold her almost imperceptibly tighter.

"When you got too far through the Labyrinth for his tastes, Sarah," Oran continued, "he did something to the same effect, further dividing himself again, despite his promises not to. Anticipating that you might in fact beat him, Jareth put a small bit of himself into your brother. Not much, mind you, but enough for him to keep more thorough tabs on you than his crystals could afford him, a way for him to know if you were ever in danger without him having to be watching."

Knowing that struggling against him would be useless right now, Sarah did her best to hide the shiver that desperately wanted to creep its way up her spine. She was almost certain that there would be bruises around her middle.

Ignoring the blank, glassy stare his son had fixed on him, Oran carried on. "It might not have done anything to lad, had it not been for one simple event. When Jareth brought your family Underground, just days ago, that small part inside Toby was given its first taste of magic in nearly five years; bringing him back Above was merely like trying to put out a grease fire by pouring water over it. That fragment of Jareth was awakened, and desperately seeking to recreate the circumstances under which it had received such pure nourishment."

Sarah remembered the crawl space in the basement, a place that had so reminded her of an oubliette. Had that been because Toby had made it like an oubliette? And what of all that crashing and shattering she had heard from behind his door; had that been the sound of magic crystals dropping from the air?

"He's fine Underground," Oran said, "completely himself, but I fear that trying to take him back Above will simply result in him reverting to that tortured duality." He turned his attention back to the strangely quiet Jareth. "You must undo this, Jareth, the boy's sanity could very well be at stake."

Karen and Robert looked stunned, not having quite followed the entire narration, but understanding the general gist of it. Toby was practically being smothered in his mother's arms, looking confused and somewhat frightened. The boy she didn't know stood next to the Labyrinth who, frighteningly, was wearing much the same expression as Jareth.

Jareth, Sarah fumed. She had, in a strange way, trusted him, confided in him that she was worried for her little brother, and had he even once mentioned that he might know what was wrong? No, the slimy bastard hadn't said a word! Just as when he had remorselessly manipulated her family into believing that they were in a park somewhere rather than Underground, or when he had unapologetically stated that he had taken her memories of the Labyrinth away, Sarah was frightened by his callous decisions. It hurt even more that, despite his cruelty and machinations, she still wanted him, still burned with unsatisfied lust. It was a small grace that lust could be turned so easily to anger, because at the moment she didn't want to do much other than hate him.

Gritting her teeth, Sarah did her best to wiggle out of Jareth's unmoving hold. Making no progress, she balled a fist and hit him as hard as she could. "Let me go, you bastard!"

Time seemed to stand still as his head snapped back. The frost on the window crackled and the room seemed to grow dark. With an inhuman roar, the two Jareths became one, and the dark eyes that settled on her were alien and terrifying. Something ageless, desperate, and angry crashed over her from his side of the link, and it wasn't until she was practically drowning in his emotions that she realized his side had gone utterly dead for a few minutes. The calm before the storm, she decided trying hard not to show those distant eyes how much she was affected by his icy rage.

* * *

_NO! So close, too close, but never close enough. Not this time, Sarah sweet, not again!_

* * *

Jareth was hanging from a spider-silk noose of his own design.

* * *

A/N: At this point I'd wager that we only have a few chapters left… Don't kill me for the un-fluffy cliffhanger.

Rejoice for the super-fast update! Despair because I am volunteering on the 8th and 9th, which means that this chapter is sort of your update for the weekend. Sorry 'bout that...

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed; it really means a lot to me!

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here recognizable as having come from the movie Labyrinth. I do, however, now own a replica of Jareth's amulet…


	43. The Labyrinth, Part Three

Chapter Forty-Three: The Labyrinth, Part Three.

_Perhaps it had been inevitable, some part of Jareth mused detachedly. His entire life had felt like an up-hill battle, and now he had finally lost his footing. He had just never thought it would happen at such a painfully crucial moment. A few seconds more and he would have had a confession out of Sarah, but then maybe that would have been worse, being accepted in one breath and rejected in the next. _

_Five centuries of careful and ingenious planning lay crumbled around his feet and he had no one to blame but himself and Oran's horrible sense of timing._

_Jareth had always expected problems like this to resolve themselves quietly; he had never been particularly concerned with the prospect that they wouldn't, but then Sarah hadn't been a part of his life when he had thought about the consequences of building the Labyrinth. Splitting himself had not been a good idea but at the time it had been the only option available. Embedding a part of himself into Toby hadn't been a good idea either, but at that point he had been too far-gone, blinded by his obsession with Sarah. _

_Part of him understood that this situation was his fault and accepted that truth with grim resignation; another part of him bellowed and raged like a wounded animal. And like a wounded animal, he refused to give up what he had worked so hard for; he would fight with everything in him to keep what was his._

_Hadn't that been why he had made the Labyrinth in the first place?_

* * *

Sarah shivered as the alien eyes searched the room, detached and lifeless, but when they settled on her something fierce kindled into their depths. It was hard imagining that this was the same man she had juked and jousted in the Labyrinth; that she had thought him cold and stone-faced then was suddenly laughable compared to now. What she wouldn't give to go back to that time, she thought wistfully, it had been simple then: ignore everything other than solving the Labyrinth. 

Jareth's lips curled back in a snarl, revealing teeth that were more fang-like than playfully wicked, as before. "You want a Labyrinth to solve?" he growled, making everyone in the silent room jump at the angry sound. His voice held a strange resonance, as though multiple voices had been speaking from different directions all at once. She had heard that before…

Sarah tried to pull out of the solid arm around her waist, feeling much too close to a ticking time bomb that was about to go off. Where had all her bluster gone? Where was the girl who had stood up to the Goblin King and won? 'Hiding in the corner,' she thought with little amusement. This wasn't the sarcastic and mocking Goblin King, this was Jareth at the end of his rope and ready for a good fight; she could feel his rage pounding into her, like the Arctic at high tide. But as much as he was scaring her, he had presented a wonderful opportunity. A challenge to overcome, a way to get home! Too much had happened, too much about what she had thought had suddenly become questionable, too much she still didn't know, and all she wanted to do was go home and spend the rest of her life trying to forget how eerie and terrifying he looked at this moment.

"Fine, I'll give you a Labyrinth to solve," Jareth bit out, interrupting her frenzied thoughts. Like lightning, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "But not the old one, oh no," he shook his head, regaining some of his mocking attitude, "you may not know what turns to take but you already know the tricks and the traps and what to look out for. You want a challenge, a test of wills? You solve this Labyrinth," Jareth tapped his temple, "or this Labyrinth," he tapped his heart. "Can the great Sarah manage that? Because I don't think she stands a chance." His eyes searched hers, foreign and yet still familiar. His thumb caressed her cheek, a frighteningly tender gesture considering the pure anger she could feel coursing through him. "You know the rules: thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth; if you win, you are all free to go. Only Sarah enters, and I assure you, you will find very little help this time around."

From the corner of her eye, Sarah could see Oran cautiously approaching his son. "Jareth," he spoke quietly, soothingly. That he was speaking to his _son_ as though trying to calm a suddenly wild dog was more nerve-wracking than Jareth's aggressive behavior. "Now is not the time for action; words will serve you better. Calm yourself."

And faster than anyone in the room could blink, Oran was gone.

Jareth stared at where his father had been standing. "Action saved this kingdom once before, when words could have brought only false safety. It can save this kingdom again, old fool," he said with a sneer.

Oran's gift for compassion bled out of the room like a poorly covered wound, and with it went whatever peace had been holding everyone steady during the crazed king's critical build up. Though she silently willed her family to be still, it was only a matter of time before someone snapped back to themselves enough to start raising protests. And just like that, Sarah found her bluster. In her fear for Oran, for what Jareth could do to her family if they drew his attention, she found that magnificent bravado that she had worn like a cloak nearly five years ago.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, thankful her voice was level. It wouldn't fool him, she knew, seeing as he could feel her emotions just as well as she could feel his.

Insult briefly flickered through his anger. "You think I would hurt my own sire?"

"I don't know what you're capable of anymore," she answered honestly, praying that her family could stay quiet just a bit longer. Long enough for her to accept his challenge, to ensure that they had at least one way home.

Jareth's face blanked again, then turned mischievous, as though he had to change his emotions with as much effort as one would change a mask. "Then come find out, little Sarah. Find your answers, if you can; all you have to do is pick up the gauntlet," he murmured persuasively.

Sarah gulped. So much more was at stake this time, and this was a whole different sort of game. Or was it? She frowned; after finding out that Jareth _was_ the Labyrinth she wasn't so sure it could be different. That thought gave her hope. "All right, Goblin King, I'll play your game."

* * *

_Such lose terms. One day his Sarah would learn to bargain before blindly agreeing to anything._

* * *

Sarah hadn't remembered closing her eyes, hadn't felt herself leaving that crushing embrace on the bed, but when next she opened her eyes she was standing alone in an empty corridor. The short hall was frigid, frost lancing the walls and collecting in dips on the stone floor. For a moment Sarah missed the body that had been crushing her into a deliciously male heat; all she had for warmth here was a nightgown that was more decorative than it was practical. 

Shivering, she began to study her surroundings. Doors lined the walls to her left and right, the metal handles looking colder than she felt.

"Where am I?" she wondered quietly.

* * *

Karen didn't bother holding in her scream when Sarah went limp in Jareth's grasp. The creature on the bed was wild, glowing silver, and all she could think was that her stepdaughter had made a deal with the devil. Now they were all lost. 

Karen didn't know a thing about magic. She had been more interested in what was happening around her than she had been in the possibility of what _could_ happen. She was a realist who had suddenly found herself drowning in a world that could have put even the finest imagination to shame. Still, she didn't need to know about magic to know one thing for sure.

Jareth would never give up.

For whatever reason, he wanted Sarah, and in that one moment, seeing the absolute determination etched in his silver skin, Karen knew he would do whatever he had to, to keep her.

"What have you done to her?" Karen demanded, beating her husband to the questioning.

Jareth laid Sarah's lifeless body across the bed, arranging her with infinite care. "Have no fear, she is well and shall remain so as long as she stays wary." With a quick touch over his chest he added, "She is here; safe."

He seemed so distracted, Karen thought, opening her mouth to demand what he meant. But his attention had gone, and with a negligent wave of his hand Karen found her family and the Hadrian boy face-to-face with an extremely weary Oran.

* * *

"You're here," Sarah whipped around to find Jareth standing behind her, a hand over his heart. "Where you belong," he added. 

She didn't marvel at the oddity that his answer meant she was _inside_ him, didn't even stop to contemplate such a trivial detail. "Why are you doing this?" she asked seriously.

He flinched violently, as though he had been struck from behind. "I'm not… I can't-" Sarah became alarmed as his eyes grew cloudy. "Too many pieces," she heard him murmur, "too many cracks."

"Ignore him," a voice said from behind. Becoming dizzy, she turned around to find another Jareth. This one was wild of posture, a careless air surrounded him and, somehow, she _knew_ that this was the one who had been the Labyrinth. "He is insignificant, a trifling splinter."

Now Sarah was the one to flinch. Trifling, he said, as though completely untroubled by the thought of not being whole.

"I suggest you get moving, sweet Sarah, you are wasting precious time," the Labyrinth said, fondness dancing in his eyes.

She bristled, stifling a groan. The last thing she need was to feel like an ass because she had a sympathetic ear rather than a wary enemy. "I've done this before," she snapped, "I can do it again."

"Correction," he smiled condescendingly, "you've solved _me_ before, but I'm nothing compared to Jareth. He's much more complicated because he feels more. I'm just that which he felt while creating me: impatience, rage, and helplessness."

She tried her best not to look shocked. "Helplessness?"

"You seem surprised; you shouldn't be. You've seen him that way before. Did you think he was unable to feel out of control?"

She thought of another time, during another game, when a room had flown apart at the hinges because Jareth had felt out of control. One thing was for sure, Sarah thought absently, the man certainly didn't do things by halves. "Go away," she finally said to the Labyrinth, making a shooing motion, "I have work to do, and I'm still trying to figure out how this all began."

"What do you mean?" he asked, head tilted to the side.

Sarah sighed. What did she mean? In less than a week her life had been turned upside-down, and now her freedom could very well be dependant upon her solving a maze when she didn't even have the vaguest clue as to what her objective was. "This all started with a dream that had nothing to do with Jareth," she replied, thinking back to that first strange occurrence from several days ago.

The Labyrinth laughed, a sound that leaned more toward a wicked cackle than the throaty chuckles she was used to. "It had everything to do with Jareth."

Sarah shook her head. "But he wasn't even there," she argued, "just a bunch of shadows trying to prepare me for something, trying to warn me what not to do." Which she had blown royally, she thought sourly.

"They were trying to tell you, in their own decidedly cryptic way, that Jareth was coming and that it would be better for everyone involved if you just made with the googley-eyes," he scoffed.

"Who where they?" she asked quietly, subtly try to warm her arms in the still frozen corridor.

The Labyrinth shrugged. "Most of them were Hadrian's children; they didn't have enough power to show themselves as anything more than shadows."

Who the hell was Hadrian? Sarah thought angrily, wishing to understand more of this conversation than she was. "Well, what did they want?"

"A queen," he said, quickly disappearing from sight.

* * *

_He watched from the shadows, silently keeping track of time as Sarah meandered her way through his heart._

* * *

This door led to a puzzle, that one to a memory. Sometimes they led onward, other times they dead-ended. Here, there was a wintry paradise; there, there was a tropical hell. And, damn it, but there was no pattern at all! 

Sarah sat down with a huff, having just walked through a door that led to a starlit field. It was absolutely beautiful, silver moonlight plating young grass and making the trees look like celestial sentinels, but…

She had no idea where she was or where she was going, and no clue how much time had passed. Sarah Williams was not a defeatist, but even she had to admit when things looked bleak. Frustrated tears welled up in her eyes; this wasn't like last time at all.

Last time she had had a goal, now all she had was one word: solve. Before she had had help, this time she wasn't even getting mocking visits from the Goblin King; she had been alone since the Labyrinth had left.

_A queen._

She didn't want to contemplate that word, didn't even want to think about the implications, because the sad fact was that something damn close to an appreciative shiver had gone through her at that word, rather than regret or anger. If Sarah was completely honest with herself she would even admit that despite the fact that she was exhausted, terrified, and soul-weary, something in her still burned for Jareth, still ached with unfulfilled hunger. It was beyond unfair, she thought moodily, that just when she had been ready to try and work some sort of commitment out with Jareth, the world had come crashing down. Bitter disappointment filled her; every time that she had begun to trust that man, he did something to make her take it back. "A queen," she snorted, as disgusted with the idea as she was with herself for actually wanting it.

"You are, you know," a quiet voice said by her ear, nearly making her shriek in surprise.

Sarah turned, although she already knew who she was going to find lounging next to her. It was strange, because they looked no different, but somehow she knew that this was Jareth and not the Labyrinth. She frowned at him, trying to stifle the small thrill that ran through her at the sight of him. "Not that I expect you to help or anything, but could you tell me what the hell I'm supposed to be doing?"

Jareth ignored her question. "I wondered, time and again, what about you was so special, so much that you became the worst sort of obsession for me." He reached out, gently running his fingers through her hair.

"And have you figured it out yet?" she snapped, trying to cover with anger the shiver his quiet touch produced.

A smile broke his somber expression, as though he knew, and he probably did, what effect he had on her. "Everything I've done has come to a head," he explained. "Every little action has fallen into place, and I can see the shape of my life."

"So…?" she asked confusedly.

"You are special," he continued, his hand leaving her hair to stroke around her neck, "because you have magic. A tiny little babe who had magic enough to call to me, who wanted me to be the one to fulfill your wishes. Now I know why." He lowered his forehead to her own, making her uneasy with his closeness. "The Labyrinth shut me off from others. My people, while grateful for being protected from the threat of mortals, feared the power I wielded. Life became a hollow mockery, as devoid of company as it is possible to be while running a kingdom; my own father feared me for a time. I turned from one pursuit to another, trying desperately to fill the emptiness." He sighed. "Understand, Sarah, that my kind are governed by their emotions, and in that dark time I believe that my magic got away from me."

She gave him as confused a look as possible while being so close.

Jareth gave another sigh, one arm going around her shoulders despite the way she flinched at his touch. "You called to me, because I called to you first. In loneliness and despair so dark it was killing me, I lost control. In the years that followed I kept wondering why you reminded me so much of myself; it was because that magic you have _is_ me."

Sarah went still, her mind screaming at the hundreds of different ways that his statement sounded so wrong. "Do you mean I was enhanced or created?"

He was quiet for a time. "I don't know," he said at last, "but it doesn't matter; either way you are mine."

Sarah tried not to laugh, wondering if she had stepped into a scene straight out of a trashy romance novel. _Mine_? Still, some ridiculously feminine part of her still wanted to melt at the thought. "How do you figure?"

He gave her a devilish look, hooking a finger under her chin to urge her lips through the inch or so of space separating them. The second their lips touched, Sarah knew she was lost. It was simply _electric_. But like that first kiss they had shared, there was something about it that simply wasn't normal. It was as if something within her was trying to break free, as if pieces of her were being shifted around at somebody else's bidding.

Was it possibly because they were?

Were there little bits of Jareth within her, moving around at his consent, trying to break free and delve back into him because that's where they belonged?

That thought alone almost shook her more than his kiss did.

He broke the kiss, but the feeling kept coming, a pleasure that was incomplete, that left her wanting so much more. "No one else could ever make you feel this way," he assured, and she had little trouble believing him, "and if they did, I would lay into them with a viciousness hereto unknown."

Sarah shivered, knowing it wasn't the idle threat of an insecure man, but the promise of a king who was subtly pointing out that, yes, he was the jealous type.

Jareth stretched out, lifting Sarah to sit in his lap, still shaking with whatever magic he had left raging inside her. Powerful arms wrapped around her, and she tried desperately not to moan. That something was wrong would be an understatement. He was barely even touching her anymore and she still felt that electric charge, as though he had never stopped kissing her. She cracked an eye open to stare at his smug face, trying to ignore the fact that she had gone dangerously hypersensitive.

"It could be wonderful beyond your imagination between us, Sarah," he whispered, ghosting his fingers over flesh that was burning with need.

"What did you do to me?" she asked through gritted teeth, fitting the overpower urge to roll her hips, thrash in his arms, _anything_ for a little bit of friction.

Jareth's expression was mockingly pleasant. "Why, I'm giving you incentive to stay, darling. Or perhaps you need something more… visual?"

The starry field gave way to a dark bedroom. Sarah held herself tense, strung taut by lust that magic was forcing through her veins, and groaned when she felt herself pulled back against the solid length of Jareth. She groaned again, this time in dismay, when she realized they weren't alone in the room.

* * *

_Brute force had not stopped her last time; if anything, outright opposition seemed to give Sarah a thrill. Romancing hadn't worked either, because her young heart hadn't truly been ready for it._

_But things were different this time; Sarah was older, they were more connected, and he was willing to play dirty._

_He had a woman to seduce._

* * *

If sexual frenzy had been what she had experienced on the bed that morning, then she had no words for what she was experiencing now. The feeling was beyond endurance. Muscles that had never shown the slightest inclination to make themselves known where quivering, her skin felt like it was on fire being constantly agitated by the rough caress of her clothing, and her thighs were clenched firmly together, as though that would help her ignore the need. Every second vaulted her higher, until she wasn't sure if it was blood coursing through her veins or an aphrodisiac-laced lava. The wanting was fierce, and fast becoming painful. And the only relief to be had would come from the very man who was controlling the explosive desire. 

The ironic cruelty was not lost on her.

But where she had been willing to venture this morning was no longer an option; though she wanted Jareth more than she wanted to breathe, she could no longer ignore the fact that casting her fate into his hands was a risky venture, at best. At worst, it was a binding life-sentence with no escape clause. Funny how just this morning she hadn't been able to picture life without him, but he had scared her enough that she was willing to try.

One of Jareth's hands dipped down from her waist, playing lightly over a thigh that was much too happy for the attention. The other hand wrapped around her to grab her chin, forcing her gaze to the bed. "Look Sarah," he murmured, "look at how it could be if you would stop fighting me every step of the way."

She didn't want to; the last thing she needed was to get a peak of what could ease an arousal that was quickly turning into physical torture. But the grip on her chin was relentless and, want it or not, she was looking at the bed.

Sarah's brain wanted to melt. She wasn't sure what was more appropriate: horror or increased arousal.

A ghostly sort of vision occupied the bed, nearly opaque but hazy around the edges. And Sarah watched in increasing shock as a spectral version of herself was mercilessly teased to climax by a spectral Jareth. A glowing silver body wrapped sensuously around lightly tanned skin, the ethereal glow catching the cold metal of an amulet in the dark, and making it look as though the coupling was nearly powerful enough to create its own light. Pants and cries rent the air, the woman coming down from an orgasmic high with eyes that still spoke of need. With a roll of his lean hips, the man entered her still quivering flesh and, right around the moment that the other woman moaned in ecstasy, Sarah knew she would do almost anything to receive that kind of pleasure, to be released from the heady spell that had been cast over her.

Anything but surrender.

It wasn't solely fear guiding her actions, although that had a great deal to do with it. It was a responsibility to her family. They were all trapped Underground and she could be the only one who knew of a way home. If that meant overcoming a lust so powerful it was nearly like a drug, then so be it.

The vision faded, but the lovers never broke apart as they slowly ceased to be; the hand at her thigh never stopped its idle stroking and Sarah wanted to cry out at how cruel Jareth was truly being. How could she be shown something like that, in the state she was in, and be expected to walk away?

She wasn't, and that was the problem. Whatever his motivations, Jareth was playing to win this time around, and apparently didn't intend to pull any of his punches like last time.

It was strange to realize that he had pulled his punches back then, but it was the only thing that made sense. If the Labyrinth had been built as a defense and weapon for war, then the only way she could have gotten through it was because it had been toned down for her. Like she was fond of saying, it was easy to defeat an enemy who was blinded by love.

She stilled at that thought. Could it be that simple? Sarah thought through a haze of hormones.

She was in his _heart_, trying to solve some sort of Labyrinth, and she hadn't known what to do because she had been looking too far away. _Where you belong_, he had said; which meant that she had had the answer all along. There wasn't anything to solve, because she already knew that Jareth loved her; how could she not, the man had all but tied her up and staked a claim.

"It's me, isn't it?" she whispered thickly, trying to keep the husky note out of her voice.

The curse behind her was immediate and vicious. Jareth's arms tightened convulsively. "You cannot return Above, Sarah. You've absorbed too much magic. It would just result in a slow and painful death for you," the words were quiet, laced with the same fear and desperation as during a similar encounter. "I will not let you go."

"That's the answer to this Labyrinth," she went on, once again heedless to his pleading. "It's not that you have no power over me," because, apparently, he had a lot of power, not over her, but _in_ her, "but that I have power over you."

The world went dark, a mournful and enraged wail behind her the only sound that entered the black void.

* * *

When next Sarah opened her eyes it was to be greeted by the sight of her cozy, but Spartan bedroom. Home, she marveled in both delight and disappointment, she was _home_! But two details had changed since the last time she had been in her room. 

The first was that around her neck, held by a short and delicate chain, was Jareth's amulet. She had never seen him without it, but when she moved to take it off for a quick study, the thing refused to budge; the chain either snared, or shortened itself, but the end result was that it refused to be pulled over her head.

The second thing she noticed was that a piece of paper had been slipped beneath the silent and stagnant hourglass on her vanity table. On weak legs, Sarah rose from her bed and took the note in hand. The curling script that greeted her was shakier than she had ever seen it.

_Sarah,_

_You have destroyed me in more ways then you could ever imagine. You may have won your freedom, and that of your family, but know this: it will never end, this is not something you can escape._

_Is it possible for a woman to never be ready enough to accept her destiny? _

_Keep the amulet close; it is a sacrifice that will keep you safe. Understand that I have given you what little I have left, and it may very well haunt you until the end of your days._

_Our paths will cross again, Sarah. Fate is uncanny in that way. Will you be ready to accept responsibility for what you've done when that day comes?_

_Remember the mirror._

_Jareth_

* * *

**The End.**

* * *

A/N: Your author is simultaneously thrilled at her achievement, happy for having just turned 20, and terrified that angry readers are going to come after her with pitchforks for what she's done. (Isn't third person fun?) **THERE IS A SEQUEL!**Just give me a little time to see if I want to do a small Labyrinth side-project before I get to work on the second part of this story. 

A lot of people asked about this and, in case this chapter didn't clear things up: no, Jareth and the Labyrinth have NOT re-merged. They just both happen to be in the same place (Jareth's body). Any other questions? Be sure to ask them, because I'm more than happy to answer, or tell you if it will be addressed in the sequel.

There are hordes of lovely ladies I would like to thank for helping me get through this endeavor. I've made a lot of new friends, and I'd list you all but I would hate for someone to feel slighted because I forgot a name. Thank you all, you've really made writing this a learning and growing experience.

This chapter has been dedicated to Kaline Reine, for submitting the 700th review!

Please Review! I can't tell you how thrilling it is to hear your thoughts.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything having come from the movie Labyrinth.


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